


Insights

by celedan



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Anal Sex, Bodysharing, M/M, Matter of Life and Death, Oral Sex, Owen can be surprisingly caring if he wants to, Owen is a Tosser, POV First Person, Quickies, Quickies in the Archives, Slight Dislike of Gwen, Swearing, alien device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24509905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celedan/pseuds/celedan
Summary: Owen becomes the victim of an alien device, and suddenly, his body is lying unconscious on the floor while his mind is trapped inside Jack's head. Great. He can feel and see everything Jack does, and can eventually even hear the Captain's thoughts. And the best of all, he will become an involuntary witness to his boss and the Tea Boy going at it. Oh joy.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 22
Kudos: 155





	Insights

**Author's Note:**

> This story manifested because of a conversation with a group of friends I was sucked into a while ago (they're always very eagerly discussing their sex lives, either if I want to hear about it or not). One of them said something along the lines of “Dumb fucks well”, can't remember the rest of the conversation. Somehow, this stuck with me though. And it went from there...

Unashamedly, I let my gaze linger a moment longer on the two hot blondes passing by our table.

“Oh please,” Gwen suddenly snorts into her glass, and rolls her eyes at me as she sees where my gaze has strayed.

“What?!”

She fixes me with a pointed stare. “Have you looked at them?!” She quickly holds up her hand to prevent me from replying. “No, don't. Of course you have.”

“What's wrong with them?” I really don't get it.

I catch Jack's gaze by accident, but he just shrugs, equally as confused.

Gwen snorts again very unladylike. “They're dumb as hell, Owen. Don't you have any self-respect left?”

“How do you know they're dumb?”

Now she fixes Ianto with a pointed stare for his – obviously, in her opinion, stupid – question which he holds stubbornly. “Have  _you_ looked at them, or have you only eyes for... Well, never mind. What I'm trying to say is, they are dyed peroxide blond, wear fabric you can't really call a skirt any more, and I can hear them giggling like American school girls from over there. Believe me, they are the stereotype blonde.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Tosh reminds her a little sternly to which I can only roll my eyes. Sure, there are people who can really surprise you, but with a lot of people, you really get what you see advertised on the package. Sad, but true. And with those two hot babes, I have to agree with Gwen, they probably are stupid, but hey, they are hot, and hot people have an advantage over the ugly ones any time; They always get what they want. And if it's me they want for tonight, then I sure as hell won't complain.

And by the way... “Who cares. Dumb fucks well, so that's all that counts.”

“You really believe this?” Gwen cries out indignantly, and blinks at me. 

I shrug and raise my glass to my lips. “Course. I don't say  _all_ of them, mind, but a lot of intelligent people are uptight – attractive or ugly, doesn't matter –, they think too much, turning their actions over and over in their heads instead of being spontaneous, and are unable to simply let go. And therefore, they are a dead loss in bed. Boring.” 

I just can't suppress my gaze flitting over to Tosh because I've always perceived her as the prime example for my theory. Unfortunately, Gwen catches my gaze, too, and she bristles.

Fuck. I sigh inwardly. I'm not in the mood for a discussion with Miss Righteous.

“As you're not really stupid yourself, then you have to be a total wimp in bed,” she hisses.

Now bristling myself, I lean over to her angrily. “You pretty well know that the contrary is the case.”

“Guys!” Jack now barges in, probably to prevent the situation between us from escalating. We both look stubbornly at him, and throw each other sizzling glances from the corners of our eyes at the same time. He sighs and rubs his neck a bit tiredly. Ianto twitches beside him so as if he has to contain himself from reaching out, and starting to massage Jack's neck or something. Always the perfect little servant, that boy, catering to our Captain's every need. 

Sternly, Jack now crosses his arms before his chest, inadvertently flexing his ridiculously perfect pecs, straining his shirt, and thus displaying his body to the best advantage – knowingly or instinctively, I can't tell. He throws us a mock scold. “Take it from one with my extensive intimate knowledge of beings from all around the universe and throughout time; I've known my fair share of very intelligent people with whom I've spend a few of the best nights ever.” At this, he twitches his head slightly towards Ianto, but aborts the movement suddenly as if he just stopped himself from looking at Tea Boy. “And vice versa,” he continues, “I've also known a few of the most beautiful beings in the universe, dumb as hell, as you put it, Miss Cooper, and...” He sighs mock dejectedly. “And they were equally crap in bed. So do away with the clichés, guys, they're stupid.”

I snort into my glass, bowing before his greater wisdom as a result of hopping through every bed throughout time on every known planet in the universe, and suddenly, I just cannot  _not_ needle him a bit. “And you, oh Captain? Which cliché are you? As you're not always the brightest bulb in the box, I stick to dumb fucks well.”

Jack – and I knew he would – grins cheekily at me, but before he can reply with an equally witty comment, Ianto's dry voice cuts in, “He can't possibly be  _that_ stupid.”

I blink at him, dumbstruck for a moment as I try to digest what Ianto said. Did he just imply what I think he implied? Does he want to tell me that Jack really is that good in bed?

Huh.

_That_ I'll only believe if I see it with my own eyes. Which won't happen  _ever_ . 

I sneer automatically at Ianto, somehow a little embarrassed that he threw me off course with his comment. “Then I really don't know what a man with Jack's reputation wants with an uptight bore like you in his bed.” I snort maliciously. “Bet the saying of our dear founder gets a whole new meaning with you; lie back and think of Torchwood, indeed.”

“That's enough, Owen!” Jack growls, now really cross, all traces of the bantering from a few moments ago gone.

I sneer at him, too, as he glares reprovingly at me. For a moment, I hold his gaze before I shrug and stand up, intending to get another pint. Or better yet, something stronger.

Who the hell said going out with the whole team would be fun?!

Oh yeah, it was Gwen.

Waiting at the bar, I steal a glance over to the two blondes who chat at the other end of the bar. I've had enough of my colleagues for tonight, so maybe now, I should try my luck with those two.

Jack's sudden presence behind me is like a physical thing even before he can say anything. I sigh, but don't turn around or acknowledge him otherwise.

Instead of coming to a stand beside me to rip me a new one, he steps up real close behind me. I can almost feel his body heat against my back. He bends down to whisper in my ear – probably to make me uneasy, to show who here is the one of higher ranking, that we're anything but equals or some shit. “This time, you've gone too far, Owen,” he reprimands me, and I shiver involuntarily at his calm but icy voice. Angrily, I curl my hands into fists. “I will not tolerate you behaving like this only because you can't stand Ianto. We are a team, we depend on each other. Start acting like it.”

I open my mouth to answer something probably unwise, probably to accuse him of favouring Ianto only because he fucks him, but he is faster. “And by the way,” he whispers, his lips now almost touching my ear, and I have to shiver again at the sound of his low, husky voice – If he were my type, I would give in to the urge to bend over the bar right this instant, and beg him to shag me, his voice sounds that irresistible, as does that damn smell of his –, “what gives you the idea it's Ianto who 'lies back and thinks of Torchwood'?”

And with that, he disappears, leaving me scowling down at my clenched hands for leaving me gob-smacked, too, just like Ianto did earlier.

I don't return to the others, but don't chat up the two blondes either. Inadvertently, they are at fault for the row with the team, and I'm not in the mood any more anyway.

So, I therefore return home alone, and even manage to get a good night's sleep.

Doesn't mean that my mood is better the next morning, because going into work means facing the team. Normally, I wouldn't give a flying fuck about their petty little opinions of me, but I really don't care for another, now maybe official lecture from Jack about being a team and behaving accordingly, yadda, yadda, yadda.

But much to my surprise, he doesn't say anything, he's even in a really cheery mood – probably got laid last night contrary to unlucky me. The others don't act any different from normal either, maybe because they're used to my behaviour, so I couldn't care less in this regard either.

Team meeting's at ten, and I'm almost glad about it. The morning had dragged on endlessly, being all the more boring as I don't have any interesting projects going on at the moment. All I want now is for the others to leave me alone. And coffee, of course. I hadn't had any this morning, because now that Ianto is a field agent, too, and not only Tea Boy and general dogsbody any more, we're not supposed to bother him with our coffee cravings all the time. He makes coffee for the team meetings in the morning and for teatime, but that's it (and nobody but him knows how this monster of a coffee maker works, not to mention that he wouldn't let us touch it anyway – almost guarding it as jealously as he does Jack). Jack is the exception, of course. He gets coffee whenever he wants all day long – fucking the Tea Boy has its perks.

So, when I sit down, I'm eagerly awaiting Ianto's arrival (the only time I care about his company, really). As if on cue, he appears with a tray laden with steaming mugs. I happily grab mine as he sets it before me, and take a big mouthful of the hot brew.

I freeze and almost start to choke, but I force the vile liquid down my throat, hiding my reaction from the rest of the team. I won't give Ianto the satisfaction of seeing me spew the instant coffee all over the table and my shirt.

Instant coffee!

How dare he.

I shoot daggers at his back as he calmly and professionally puts Jack's steaming mug with real coffee – which I can smell up to where I'm sitting, damn it! – in front of him. He sits down next to him with an impassive face, not even once looking in my direction to watch my reaction to his little act of revenge. It's almost as if it doesn't interest him, as if he stands above these things, the little fucker.

The rest of the meeting, I plot ways to get back at him.

But for the rest of the day, there is no opportunity to prank Ianto. The Rift alert thwarts my plans, and all of a sudden, it's very hectic, all grabbing our things and hurrying to the SUV.

It's just an artefact, we realise eventually when we get to the coordinates Tosh directed us to. Pity. I could've needed some action.

It turned up in an old warehouse (why does it always have to be moldy old warehouses?! It's so clichéd), and we separate to go look for it – Gwen, Tosh and Ianto check the upper floor, Jack and I the ground floor.

It's us that's lucky.

When Jack and I stand before the thing, it's really a little anticlimactic. Like I said; I could have used the action of fighting a pissed off alien that dropped through the Rift. Instead, I am left hanging with something that looks like a pimped up power drill.

“Do you know what it is?” I ask Jack, but he shakes his head, and just activates his scanner.

Sighing, I do the same, and step a little closer while Jack informs the rest of the team that we've located our target. At least the scanner doesn't show much, no radiation, or other dangerous readings; I'm not  _that_ keen on action; not that kind of action at least that would maybe shrivel up my balls and cause them to fall off because of radiation. 

That clarified, I crouch down in front of the artefact, and carefully reach out with no real intention to touch it though.

Suddenly, it comes to life, a lot of little lights flashing up, sparks spewing from it which can't be normal, and it starts to buzz in a high-pitched note.

“Jack!” I cry in alarm, and rip back my hand hovering in front of it. 

I hear him shout something, but then it all happens so fast. The lights get brighter, and envelope us in a wave of light. We don't even have a chance to warn the others.

Then, everything goes black.

I blink heavily as I come to.

And blink some more when the first thing I spot is Ianto's concerned face peering down at me. Huh? Why the hell should he be concerned about me. Shouldn't he keep vigil over Jack like a good little fuck toy?

“Are you all right?”

I want to open my mouth and snap at him, but somehow, not the intended “fuck off, what do you think?!” comes out of my mouth, but a “I'm fine, what about Owen?”.

What the fuck?!

I turn my head, although I didn't intend to, and my gaze comes to rest on an unconscious body a few feet away.  _My_ body!

Oh shit.

“Still unconscious, but he seems unhurt,” I hear Ianto say as if through cotton wool. 

I, no, Jack – and it's not really hard to figure out that my consciousness somehow got stuck in Jack's body all of a sudden – sits up slowly, mindful of the dizziness which makes ev'rything spin around me, us, and staggers over to my body with a little help from Ianto. Tosh kneels next to my unconscious form and frantically scans me. Gwen is nowhere in sight – probably to get a containment box for the artefact from the SUV – so that fortunately, with her gone, the hysterics and fussing in here can be kept to a minimum. Although today, Tosh almost gives PC Cooper a run for her money, it seems according to the way all of her determination is focussed on me, her eyes wide with concern, hectically flicking over me and the scanner alternately.

“Tosh, what can you tell me?” Jack asks, and squats down next to my body. He feels my pulse, but other than the fact that I still seem to have a pulse, this probably doesn't tell him much. 

Jack's words snap her out of her frantic daze. “Not much,” she admits, taking a deep calming breath, while waving my medical scanner over my body. “Physically, he seems fine, except for being unconscious of course.”

“Then let's get him back to the Hub,” Jack instructs, and struggles into a standing position again. 

Helplessly, I have to observe as the team loads my unconscious body into the back of the SUV where we normally transport the fucking Weevils, then we all drive back – Jack sullenly looks out of the window because he's not allowed to drive until he's checked over.

Back at the Hub, they put my body onto the autopsy table, preparing it for more tests. They do an okay job all things considered, and don't mess up too much with my medical equipment. Jack starts to grumble in protest as Tosh hooks him up to the machines, too, but he is outvoted by the other three.

As far as I can see, he is completely all right, as am I – except that nobody detects the insignificant little detail of my consciousness being transferred into Jack's body. Great. Should have known that it is something untraceable. Jack doesn't seem to have noticed either by now that he has a hitchhiker in his head.

A while later, Tosh shakes her head helplessly, standing over my still unconscious body. “I have no idea why he won't wake up. His body is fine, and the analysis of his brain showed normal activity.” She shrugs. “I don't know what else we can do.”

I feel Jack frown, and he looks down on my still body, his arms tightly crossed over his chest as is his wont when contemplating something (or throwing himself into hero-pose to show off).

“Keep him under surveillance at all times,” he eventually says. “And make every test with him you can think of, use every equipment we have that may help.”

Tosh nods dejectedly, but sets to work immediately with new determination shining in her eyes.

Jack meets Ianto and Gwen's eyes. “We take a look at that device we found. It activated before Owen and I passed out.” He points a warning finger at the two which actually shuts Gwen up for a second, thrown. “You will stand by and  observe , I'll handle the thing, got it!”

Ianto nods obediently while Gwen starts bombarding Jack with accusing questions why he didn't tell them before that the device had activated, and...

I soon tune her out.

After that, the day progresses normally – as normal as it can for Torchwood, that is. By noon, the team meets in the conference room, minus Tosh at first, who doesn't want to leave me until Jack has to actually order her upstairs for something to eat. She's dedicated, I have to give her that, even if probably for the wrong reasons.

“Any news on Owen?” Jack looks at Tosh inquiringly. She mutely shakes her head, and stares down into her coffee, ignoring the plate with a sandwich on it that Ianto shoves closer to her pointedly. 

Jack sighs and leans back in frustration. I can feel the amount of helplessness, worry, and frustration swirling through him. Overall, I became aware more and more of the fact over the day's course that I not only see what Jack sees, of course, I also can sense his feelings (thankfully  _not_ his thoughts – that would be chasms I'm not itching to plunge into) as well as feeling what he physically feels... I dearly hope that he won't die while I'm stuck in his body. First, I really don't need to know what dying feels like, and furthermore, who can be sure that my consciousness is still with him when he revives?! What if I simply vanish into the great beyond?

I should try harder to make myself known to him. Could take days for them to realise what's going on otherwise. But that's easier said than done. I've tried talking to him mentally, screaming at him, even kicking out and punching his consciousness in a metaphorical sense, but he didn't notice me so far.

“Try harder,” Jack tells Tosh as if, haha, reading my mind. 

“Tosh should take over studying the device,” Ianto interejects suddenly, earning himself a mutinous glare from gentle Tosh, but he ignores her. “We did all we can, but that thing's way out of our league.”

I have to admit that he's right. With Ianto and Gwen observing closely and taking notes of the findings, and throwing in suggestions and ideas, Jack made a couple of tests on the device. They didn't tell them anything remotely interesting. I tried screaming at Jack to turn the thing on again, but of course, he didn't hear me. He must realise that turning it on again could maybe reverse the effect it had on us two! But from their point of view, it probably would only hurl another person into a coma. Fuck. I so badly need to tell them what happened.

“Ianto's right,” Jack nods. “Tosh, that device is yours. You did all you can for Owen for the moment, we can take care of him from now on, but we need your expertise in this.”

The two stare at each other for a couple of moments, and everyone can clearly see that Tosh would rather stay with me, but eventually, her common sense breaks through her emotional feelings, and she nods curtly.

“What about help from the outside eventually?” Ianto asks then, and looks meaningfully at Jack. I don't understand a word, but I can feel comprehension dawning in Jack. Huh? Does he mean the inept dorks from UNIT? Can't imagine that Jack would ask them for help, not to mention letting them step foot into his territory, not for me, not for anybody else. 

“Yeah, maybe,” he answers Ianto contemplatively. Out of the corner of Jack's eye, I notice the others looking equally as confused. Gwen opens her mouth to ask, but suddenly, Jack stands up, cutting her off abruptly. “Back to it, kids. Otherwise, we'll never get Owen back.” 

“At least he's shutting his gob for a while this way,” Gwen mumbles while leaving the room. 

Fuck you, too, Cooper, I'm not the one with the ability of talking ev'ryone to death. But I can detect the worry behind her bitchy words, so I'll let it go this time.

Overall, it's not so bad being stuck in Jack's body. I don't have to work, don't have to follow orders, and don't have to put up with anybody's crap myself. If not for the nagging worry of how I will get back into my body, or that it would be nice if somebody even noticed in the first place, I'm peachy.

They have another team meeting at tea time, but, disappointingly, Tosh doesn't have any news on the device. Nor was there any change in my condition which, on the one hand, may be for the best. During the day, some minor things have come up that have nothing to do with me. Since, in the medical and scientific department, Gwen is the most expendable while Ianto had been busy turning the Archives up and down for any kind of information on the device, she is send out to deal with whatever happened. Since it's no interesting talk though, I try to zone out on it, which works surprisingly well again (or it's just because Jack either doesn't really listen to the things Gwen's spouting). I wish I could edit Jack groping Ianto's ass unobtrusively when he serves the coffee equally as well from my memory.

Nearing early evening, with nobody any the wiser still, they all seem exhausted and discouraged despite working frantically to help me.

“Go home, people,” Jack therefore tells them at one point. “You can't do anything any more today. I'll keep an eye on Owen.”

Hmhm, bet you'll keep your eyes on a completely different body tonight, not mine, that's for sure, Harkness.

The girls gratefully comply, Ianto stays, of course.

Sudden dread fills me because I suddenly realise what his remaining here means. What was it that I thought in the bar only yesterday? I will only believe Jack being that good in bed if I see it with my own eyes? I'd say, now I won the front row seat.

Great.

But I have to look at it from a positive side; it's sex. And since I realised I feel ev'rything Jack feels, I may get something out of it – Ianto can't be that bad at it; otherwise, Jack wouldn't sleep with him, so maybe, the night will turn out satisfying after all. Neither Jack nor Ianto would be my first choice as a partner, but hey, I was always good at thinking pragmatical and getting the best out of a situation.

I thought they would be all over each other the moment the others were through the door, but to my astonishment, Ianto disappears into the Archives for a while, and Jack goes into his office to battle a mountain of paper work. Eventually, as his frustration seems to reach its peak, he calls some UNIT chap, and screams at him for stress relief, almost starting a full blown-out war. That's one method of saving the costs for a shrink I suppose.

We both startle – me more than him – as strong fingers suddenly start kneading Jack's shoulders. With a grateful moan, he leans back into Ianto's hands, resting his head back against Ianto's chest, and closes his eyes in blissful surrender.

“What did I tell you about antagonising UNIT, Sir,” Ianto whispers into Jack's ear who flinches with a guilty grin, but nonetheless shivers languorously. 

“Weeell,” he drawls. “You weren't here, so I had to find another way of blowing off steam.”

Ianto's fingers dig more forcefully into Jack's shoulders so that even I get the warning signals. “Good to know I'm equal to some dumb UNIT chap. Maybe, since you seem calm enough now, I simply should go home for the evening.”

He starts to withdraw his hands, but Jack's shoot back over his shoulder to grab Ianto's retreating fingers. He swivels around on his chair so that he can look Ianto in the eye. He draws Ianto between his legs, and looks up at him with a pleading noise.

“You're right, that was uncalled for,” Jack grovels quickly, starting to slide his hands all over Ianto's body placatingly. “I apologize.” I feel him cocking one eyebrow suggestively. “Maybe...” His hands grab Ianto's ass firmly, drawing him nearer. “It only would be prudent if you put me in my place.”

Ianto quirks an amused eyebrow, but otherwise, his face is impassive. “So, would it?”

“Hmhm. I love it when you get all stern and dominant...”

“And where's your punishment in that?”

“Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something while we're at it,” he drawls suggestively. “You're so imaginative after all.”

Ianto chuckles, deadpan. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Captain. Not with me, you know that.”

Jack smiles up at him, throwing him one of his beaming, seductive grins. “Served me pretty well my whole life.”

“I fear to imagine,” Ianto answers dryly. 

“Thus, I'm pretty confident that I will win even your favour eventually.”

“We'll see,” Ianto chuckles, and takes a step back, out of Jack's reach. He points to the closed hatch in the floor behind him leading to Jack's bunker. “I suggest you start at once then, Captain.”

Jack's faster out of his chair than I – or Ianto – can blink. Grinning cheekily, he crashes his lips against Ianto's, making Tea Boy moan in surprised lust. “Would maybe the prospect of chocolate syrup appease you?” Jack asks when he draws his tongue out of Ianto's mouth again, but never really parting their lips.

Ianto stares expressionlessly at Jack, conveying his initial opinion on the matter with just a look. “Not again, forget it,” he eventually states, undermining his stare. “You know who gets to wash the sheets after, right.” He delves into a teasing, breathy kiss, touching Jack's lower lip with the tip of his tongue before he draws back again a hairsbreadth. A sizzle runs through Jack, and he moans. “Let me give you a clue... it won't be you.”

Jack sighs theatrically, and draws back completely. This surely wasn't the reaction he had hoped for. “All right. The basics are nice, too, I suppose.” He pouts, and throws Ianto puppy eyes who isn't the least bit impressed.

“I'll give you basics,” Ianto mutters, and briskly nods at the hatch. “Now, down with you.”

His grin back on his face, Jack quickly salutes, opens the hatch, and clambers down, by the sounds of it, Ianto directly behind him on the ladder.

The moment both of them have arrived down in the bunker, their bodies come together in a passionate kiss. I feel Jack's arousal crashing into me because like with all his other senses, I can't help but feel this powerful sensation, too. And at that moment, it's need so strong it almost overwhelms me. I've never felt anything like it.

They tear at their clothing while kissing frantically, and, finally naked, Ianto pushes Jack down onto the uncomfortable bed, crawling after him, and settling between his legs.

He immediately gets down to business, circumventing any drawn-out foreplay when suddenly his hot breath ghosts over Jack's cock, making us both shiver deliciously. “Wanted to do this all day,” he breaths, and unceremoniously takes Jack's not so inconsiderable erection into his mouth while encircling the shaft's base with his hand.

Holy fucking God! Who'd have thought that the Tea Boy was such a natural at this!?

That, or Jack had been a fantastic teacher.

Doesn't matter which, the outcome is incredible.

I want to cry out with need as Ianto sucks harder, and then slides his lips down further to deepthroat Jack, but I can't, of course. Instead, it is Jack who moans long and hard, burying his fingers in Ianto's hair. The hand not stroking the base of Jack's cock starts to massage his balls expertly for a few minutes before it creeps down further. He firmly strokes over the perineum, making Jack shudder, and then he rubs teasingly around the sensitive rim of his hole. It feels quite good, and when he pushes a saliva slicked finger into Jack, it still feels okay. When he returns with two fingers that are now slick with lube (where the Hell did he get the lube from so suddenly?!), it starts to become uncomfortable. Not much, Jack's obviously used to this (so he was right last night when he implied it was him on his back and not Ianto... not that I'm interested in their dynamics while fucking, mind ya), but for me, it's a new and strange feeling. Jack though revels in the slightly burning stretch for he presses down harder onto Ianto's fingers stretching him, burying them all the more deeper, and his ecstatic sensations start to overlay my own discomforting ones. Obviously, although I feel what Jack feels, I still perceive it differently than him.

And that's when Ianto's fingers brush against Jack's prostate.

Fireworks go off inside me, in Jack.

Whoa! I never would have thought that it could feel like this! Never being brave enough to try it out, I now have to admit it feels fantastic.

In the following minutes, Ianto mercilessly reduces Jack to a panting, moaning, writhing mess through viciously-relentless sucks, expert tongue-play, strokes, and constant battering of his fingers against his prostate.

“Ianto...” Jack moans eventually to warn Ianto that he's about to come, but the younger man doesn't draw back. He even intensifies his sucking, and thrusts his fingers harder into Jack, hitting his prostate with every push of three fingers.

And then the sensations are gone.

Jack blinks his eyes open, staring drowsily, disbelievingly down at Ianto.

The little bastard just stopped!

Don't you dare put him in his place because of the UNIT business  _now_ , Ianto Jones! Finish it!

“Ianto!” Jack whines, but Ianto ignores him, and sits up between Jack's legs, just calmly slathering lube on his hard cock.

Hmm. They fuck without a condom. Interesting. It's more serious between them than I thought when even Jack doesn't fuck around any more with other people. Or maybe because of his immortality, he can't get sick anyway, so, what does it matter. But I think the former is true here. Huh. Who'd have thought that Ianto was right last year when he insisted that he was more than Jack's part time shag.

My contemplative thoughts come to an abrupt stop because with a determined, intense gleam in his eyes, Ianto grabs Jack's trembling thighs, and pulls his lower body on his lap, sheathing himself with one hard stroke.

Both men moan loudly, shaking like leaves at the sensations their intimate connection arouses. For a few moments, they poise motionlessly, their sweat-slick bodies heaving with every laboured breath they take. Then Ianto pushes his hips up, burying himself even more deeply inside his lover.

Jack makes a gurgled noise, but I sense his impatience at the grinding, maddeningly slow thrusts. He rears up, wrapping his arms around Ianto's' neck after they are pressed flush chest to chest, and brings his legs under himself for leverage so that he comes to kneel over Ianto's lap. Ianto makes a rebuking noise, but allows Jack to take the lead, letting him raise himself on Ianto's cock before plunging down hard again forcefully in a desperately frantic pace as if chasing something elusive just out of reach.

Ianto meets each of Jack's down strokes with an upward one, hitting his prostate dead on in the process, and they both hang on tightly to each other.

It feels incredible even despite the slight pain – that is now fading gradually anyway. I groan in tandem with those two, and when they both come a few long minutes later, I cry out in my mind, swearing to myself never to admit out loud how good sex with Ianto Jones was.

They sag into the bedding, lying there trying to catch their breath while their bodies are still joined together. But then, Ianto sits up, and his spent cock slips from Jack's ass. Our boss immediately curls up lazily between the sheets.

He startles sheepishly when Ianto smacks his ass.

“Up,” the Welshman orders, and climbs from the bed. “Shower.”

Jack grumbles like an unhappy toddler that doesn't want to get out of bed in the early morning, and tries to pull the blanket over his head which Ianto snatches away instantly. “We'll only get dirty again later,” Jack whines, but he complies, following Ianto into the shower – probably drawn by the prospect of Ianto's naked body disappearing into the bathroom.

They squeeze into the small cubicle together, the following shower entailing more groping and kissing than actual washing, and when they're back in bed, I am disabused of the notion that they would settle down for the night now – not that I have anything against a little more action.

They snuggle up together, continuing with the kissing and making out, and it's surprisingly tender. Especially from a man like Jack Harkness who has 'slut' practically tattooed on his forehead.

In this moment, I get to see a side of both of them that nobody ever sees, and I'm sure they don't want anybody to see. The intimacy is almost crushing, and I feel really bad for intruding upon this moment.

After a while thought, they are both hard again, a steady, warm feeling that burns deep in Jack's body like glowing coals. It's not an urgent passion, not yet, but with every passing second, I sense Jack's reawakening arousal which some time later leads to impatience. He draws back from Ianto's kiss-swollen lips, and closes his fingers around Ianto's cock, giving it a suggestive tug. Inwardly, I breath out in relief that the emotional part of the evening is over, and it's back to sex. Sex I can handle.

“What do you say to me sucking you off,” Jack offers with a sassy grin, although he tries to appear nonchalant while tightening his grip around Ianto's length.

Ianto snorts which rather fast turns into a choked moan when Jack's hands start to wander. “I'd rather you fuck me.”

Jack winks at him. “I could do both at the same time.”

Yeah, you bet, Harkness.

Turns out, he really could fuck you and suck you off simultaneously. Bloody hell. In that moment, I deeply mourn being stuck in Jack's body and not in Ianto's. I would have given a lot to feel that sensation.

After their second round of frantic fucking, they settle down, Ianto asleep within a few minutes while Jack stays awake, holding him in his arms, and watching him sleep.

Only now do I get the first good look of his body (it's not as if I have a choice anyway); nothing I haven't seen before as I am Torchwood's physician, but of course, never in this context.

At least that's true for Jack and Ianto, Gwen is another matter...

The dim light spilling down from Jack's office through the hatch doesn't allow for much sight, but what I can see of Ianto is that he's not as slim as when he started at Torchwood. The amount of stress he had to have been under, first because of the Battle of Canary Wharf, then the stress of caring for Lisa, always fearing of her being discovered, must have really taken it out of him. Since then, it seemed as if a weight has been lifted from him – a metaphorical one, that is. In reality, it's the other way around. Being with Jack seems to become him, has put him at ease, and therefore let him put on a little weight. Okay, not ev'rybody can be as skinny as me. If Jack is into a little more flesh (is there actually anything he is  _not_ into?), then it's not my business.

The feelings Jack projects at me are utter content and happiness while looking at Ianto, and, much to my surprise, regret and sadness and a feeling of loneliness. I really don't want to analyse too closely what's causing these negative, depressing feelings in our Captain.

Jack doesn't really sleep, instead he lies awake for long periods of the night, probably thinking too much. A few times, he rolls onto his side and watches Ianto sleep, sometimes even putting his hand over Ianto's heart as if reassuring himself that his lover's heart still beats.

In my opinion, it's not healthy to linger too much on what regrets the future will inevitably bring for him, but I can't do anything about it.

He once told me that he doesn't need much sleep. I can sense his frustration and restlessness about it. I'd be agitated, too, if I didn't have anything to do the whole night because I can't sleep. That, or I'd be weary. It surely must get old after a hundred years.

It's only six-thirty when Jack rises to take another shower, being finally fed up with lying awake.

Contentment rushes through him when Ianto suddenly joins him under the shower for a repeat of last night, the first carefree, positive emotions he's had all night since Ianto fell asleep, and left him alone with his gloomy thoughts. The man will drive me to depression if I'm stuck in his head any longer.

After a very invigorating shower, Ianto sits Jack down in the cramped bathroom, and starts to shave him with one of those old-fashioned straight razors. The only reaction this elicits from me is a metaphorical eye-roll since those two seem to be incapable of leaving out any opportunity to engage in their little sex games (until now, I just hadn't realised  _how_ depraved they are). But I have to admit, if only in my own thoughts, that it feels good. Not the shaving per  se , but Ianto caring so gently for Jack. Maybe it's only Jack's emotions reflected back at me, but it doesn't matter either way; now, in this moment, I'm utterly content. 

“For someone who comes over three thousand years in the future, you're remarkably old-fashioned,” Ianto chuckles suddenly, breaking the amiable, comforting silence while delicately and expertly handling the indeed old-fashioned straight razor.

Three thousand what?! I never knew...

In the mirror, I see Jack grinning back at him boyishly, then he shrugs. “I've lived longer in the past of this world than in the future. 'S bound to rub off.”

Ianto chuckles drily. “Is there anything – or anyone – that doesn't  _rub_ off?”

Jack lets out a heartfelt laugh. “I'll tell you when I can think of something.”

Oh guys, please. This is disgustingly sweet. If I could, I would start to puke. It's a miracle I haven't already even if only metaphorically.

I'm lucky though. After Ianto's finished shaving Jack, they get ready without any further shenanigans (although they're both slightly aroused again), and climb up to the main area of the Hub. Where they look in on my still body in autopsy. Fuck. I'd almost forgotten that I still have a slight predicament here.

“No changes?” Ianto asks while Jack checks my vitals, and I get a good look at my own body once more, deathly still, almost no vital signs, lying on the autopsy table covered with a thick blanket.

“No,” Jack sighs. “Still no reactions.”

“What... what shall we do when...”

Jack looks at Ianto inquisitively. “We'll find a way to get him back.” Then a smug grin spreads over Jack's face. “Ianto Jones, do you  _miss_ him?”

“No!” Ianto cries immediately, but composes himself very quickly, and clears his throat as he desperately tries to scrape together the rest of his dignity. “It's just... then we'd have to look for a new doctor. More work for me when I have to look for possible candidates, 's all.”

“Of course,” Jack chuckles. “You know, him being so rude to you all the time, I think he's just jealous of you... besides being a cranky bastard by nature.”

Ianto gapes at him as if Jack has two heads, and to be truthful, I feel the same.

“You think he is what!? Are you out of your mind? Do you really think Owen hates me because _he_ secretly wants to shag you?”

“He may not want to get into my pants, no, but I think he's jealous because I pay so much attention to you.”

Ianto looks doubtfully at him. “Jack. We aren't children fighting over our father's attention.”

Very right. For once, I can only agree with Ianto. This is ridiculous, Harkness. As if I am jealous of your boy toy.

“Still,” Jack insists. “I think it's true.”

“So what,” Ianto replies sarcastically. “We only got off on the wrong foot because he is some misunderstood little lamb, and I should make the effort to befriend him? In your dreams, Jack, in your dreams. I only want to do my work in peace, preferably without Owen's unnecessary insults.”

I just can't stand ya, ya pansy! As if I care about Jack's opinion of me. And just for your information, I don't want to befriend you either.

My rant would have come across much better if Ianto would have actually been able to hear me.

Jack doesn't reply, but I can still feel the smug little grin on his face, and equally as smug satisfaction reflects back at me. The bastard really thinks he's right or something. Huh, no way, Captain.

Thankfully, Jack lets the topic rest, and retreats into his office while Ianto makes coffee.

Not long after, Tosh comes in, obviously only barely refraining from heading straight down into the autopsy bay to check on me. Instead, she simply asks Jack how I am, trying to do it nonchalantly. She can't pull it off, of course.

Jack immediately sees through her worry as well because he gently puts his hands on her shoulders, and smiles at her. After some rather empty reassurances that I will be fine, Ianto appears, and presses a cup of coffee in Tosh's hands.

After soaking up enough courage through Ianto's coffee, Tosh gets back to her research. Not long after, Ianto goes down into the Archives to probably, hopefully, do some research as well on how to help me.

Jack, after some half-hearted attempts at paperwork that almost make me fall asleep inside his head, is roused from his stupor by Gwen's late arrival. I feel his annoyance, but he – fuck you, Harkness, why not!? – doesn't call her out on it. Tosh's right, he gives her too much leeway. And when even he himself is annoyed by it, why the fuck doesn't he put her in her place instead of favouring her?

I didn't believe Tosh when it came up between us a while ago, but by now, I've come to the conclusion that, if nothing else, Jack's favouritism of Gwen must hurt Ianto, even if he would never show it. If there was one person our Captain should favour, it should be the person actually sharing his bed, not the one he secretly lusts over. Because, the devotion Ianto shows Jack, sickening as it is, impresses me. Last year, I wrote it off as pitifully disillusioned, but now, I can't help reconsidering my opinion of their relationship. Last night was something of an eye opener. As much as it pains me, Ianto's silent, unfailing commitment is something to be admired and surely because of that, Jack doesn't deserve him (not that I would ever tell him that). He doesn't deserve Jack pining after Gwen or letting her waltz all over us all, especially over Jack while she is constantly disregarding and questioning his decisions as leader. When I'm back in my body, I swear to assist Jack in hitting back at her. That woman with her bleeding heart has to be put in her place. This has gone on long enough.

I blink when suddenly, Jack's furious, overly complicated emotions for Gwen come to a crashing stop, and make way for a dark, sizzling yearning. Standing abruptly, he leaves his office in a brisk stride to head down into the Archives.

He stops in the doorway to watch Ianto for a few moments doing his research, his emotions suddenly flaring up like the sun so that the dark desire I felt inside of him is quenched again. I'd never have forgiven Jack if he'd used Ianto as an outlet for his anger at Gwen, worse even, if he'd used Ianto subconsciously because he couldn't fuck Gwen. No matter my feelings for Ianto, and no matter on how many occasions I myself have ridiculed him for his feelings, the thought of him being treated like that would have made me sick.

But now, the utter joy Jack feels at seeing the younger man reassures me of his deep and honest feelings for our Tea Boy...

Good God. Listen to me. I really can't explain where my sudden change of opinion comes from. If I'd been stuck in Gwen's body, I'd say her excessive caring and overbearing compassion rubbed off on me. But Harkness? Maybe he has a hidden, soft side none of us ever knew about that is contageous.

“Hey there, gorgeous!” Jack's suddenly cheery voice startles Ianto as well as me. The younger man looks up to blink tired eyes at Jack. He composes himself really quick again.

“Sir,” he says in that cool, composed manner of his as if he didn't care in the slightest for Jack, but by now, I unfortunately realised how much this cool facade and the “Sir” really turn Jack on. 

“Found anything?” Jack asks, and saunters nearer, propping a hip against Ianto's desk casually.

Sighing, Ianto shakes his head, and leans back in his chair. He rubs tired eyes, and rolls his aching shoulders. Immediately, Jack is behind him to knead the tense muscles which has Ianto moaning in delight.

“Still no records of that thing or anything that is comparable,” he mumbles while leaning into Jack's touch. “I gather Tosh hasn't come any further in her research?”

“No,” Jack sighs. “The only consolation is that Owen's condition is stable, no slow collapsing of his body or whatever.”

Ianto nods absent-mindedly. “Hopefully, it stays that way.” Questioningly, Ianto cranes his neck to look up at Jack. “Have you considered contacting the Doctor?”

Ah, now I get what Ianto meant with getting help from the outside yesterday.

Jack sighs and shrugs nondescriptly. “Maybe I'll have to eventually.”

We both startle when a warm hand is put over one of Jack's and squeezed reassuringly. Jack's eyes meet Ianto's.

“He surely won't say no when you ask him for help,” Ianto quietly says, probably correctly reading Jack's fears of being rejected by the (in)famous Time Lord. Jack hadn't told us much about his time with the Doctor, but enough to piece some things together (we could count ourselves lucky that he had told us _anything_ at all). Therefore, I'm all the more surprised that he seems to have told Ianto at least some scraps and pieces more than he did us (because, honestly, just because these two are sleeping together, have actually something like a relationship, I can't imagine they'd be incredible open to each other about their pasts, the stinted idiots). The Captain smiles a little watery at Ianto, but is nonetheless grateful for the supportive words.

“And if he does,” Ianto continues, “he'll have to answer to me.” For emphasis, he balls his fists.

“Ianto Jones!” Jack gasps, and I'm not sure if he's amused or shocked, probably both. “You can't punch a Time Lord!”

“See if I can,” Ianto counters calmly, his Welsh accent suddenly becoming stronger, his voice darker, menacing. 

Now, the feeling running through Jack really is amusement. And pride. And arousal. Yeah.

“Ah, Ianto. Always there to defend my virtue,” he croons, and leans down to embrace Ianto from behind, pressing an exuberant kiss against the side of his neck.

Ianto snorts. “If there was any virtue, I would defend it, but in the meantime, I'll defend every other aspect of you.”

“You have no idea how much this turns me on,” Jack whispers, peppering biting, sucking kisses on to Ianto's neck. “You, all dominant and determined.”

Maybe Ianto can't, but I can clearly feel how aroused Jack gets by the notion of Tea Boy going all Terminator on the Doctor.

Eventually, Ianto realises it, too, when Jack suddenly draws him out of his chair, and spins him around so that he has him pressed against the desk while he takes Ianto's mouth in a passionate, toe-curling kiss. The younger man reciprocates with all he got.

He moans into Jack's mouth when our Captain's hands fumble with the younger man's tie so that he can open the top few buttons of Ianto's shirt, and shove one hand inside to encounter warm flesh. A shiver runs through Ianto's body that vibrates against Jack's body when Jack's fingers pinch a nipple. Quickly, Jack divests Ianto of his tie, waistcoat and shirt, and presses Ianto down to lay back on top of his desk, splaying him out like a fest so he can pepper the younger man's upper body with nips, and licks, and biting kisses. Ianto is writhing impatiently under Jack's ministrations, gripping the Captain's hair tightly to either keep him there doing what he does or to urge him to go a step farther, I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure that Ianto doesn't know either.

Ianto yelps when Jack suddenly pulls him back to his feet and flips him around, and in the next second, Ianto finds himself bend over the table with his chest pressed to the hard surface. Papers crumple underneath him, and for once, the most fastidious man I know doesn't care.

Jack presses close from behind, and fumbles open both their trousers.

Finally! 

I'd really like to get something out of their fucking, thanks. It's all I have in my dire situation, and there's only so much of their heart-to-hearts I can bear, emotionally crippled as they may be.

After some very quick, well-practised preparations, Jack sinks into Ianto's ass to the hilt. All three of us groan throatily.

Digging his fingers deeply into the flesh of Ianto's hips, Jack pulls out, and thrusts into his lover for the first time of many that will follow in the next few minutes. 

Satisfaction thrums through Jack's whole being for the next couple of hours – no wonder after an orgasm that intense. But apart from that, the rest of our work day doesn't present us with any more exciting things. It's almost grating how boring and normal this is, but I would be able to appreciate that fact better if I could be bored in my own body, playing video games to counter my boredom instead of being stuck in Jack's body – who doesn't really do much against his boredom, just sitting in his office; maybe he thinks nice thoughts to pull himself through the day to which I am, fortunately, not privy to. I can only imagine that they feature a lot of naked Welshman...

“Jack?”

Tosh's voice pierces through the fog of sluggish listlessness with which Jack is staring into space for the past fifteen minutes now. 

Startled, he blinks up at her, and she is trying to hide her bemusement at that. But there is something else in her eyes... Worry, I think.

“What is it, Tosh?” Jack asks, really happy to see her.

“It's... it's Owen,” she answers, biting her lip. “There's a slight change in his condition.”

Jack's out of his chair in an instant, and all relief about the distraction is gone. “What kind of change?” he asks urgently while he follows her down into the med bay.

Once more, Tosh bites her lip as if searching for the easiest way to say this, but eventually, she just comes out with it. “His condition is worsening,” she blurts out.

Jack's eyes widen in astonishment and alarm – a feeling I can only comprehend too well.

“Excuse me?! What do you mean, worsening? He's been completely healthy a few hours ago.”

“Yes, but... see his brain scans? His brain activity is detoriating.” Tosh shakes her head in worry. “And it's not just his brain. His whole body is starting to shut down. It's barely noticeable yet, but I fear that his condition will only worsen with time.”

Helplessly, Jack looks from her to the readings Tosh tries to show him, and I see them for the first time now for myself. She's right. My body's shutting down. Slowly, but inevitably.

Fuck!

“Fuck,” Jack growls, wearily pinching the bridge of his nose. “How long do you think he has?”

“At the rate his body's growing weaker, I'd say a few days. Maybe two weeks at the most.”

Jack lets out a small sound that is a mix of a growl and a whimper. Stemming his hands into his hips, he looks up at the ceiling as if he could find his answers there. Then, his gaze strays back to my still body.

I really can't say if it's my own desperation I feel right now or his.

Finally, he looks back at Tosh. He steps up to her, and grasps her shoulders imploringly. “Do what you can. Get Gwen to help you.”

I snort inwardly, not sure where Gwen would be able to help a genius of Tosh's calibre with a medical or scientific problem.

Pressing her lips together, Tosh nods bravely. With a smile, Jack presses a parental kiss onto her forehead, and then leaves her standing in the med bay. 

And what, pray tell, does our illustrous leader plan to do to help me? It would really reassure me if he would call that Doctor of his since the worry and gloomy despondency I feel oozing off of him in waves does nothing to reassure me.

But instead of his office, he heads straight back down in to the Archives. Okay. Maybe Ianto has made some progress with his research.

Ianto looks up when Jack marches purposefully into the room the Welshman calls his office. He opens his mouth to say something to Jack, but doesn't get the chance since Jack roughly pulls him up to a standing position, and crushes his lips against Ianto's.

Giving a startled “Oomph”, the younger man clutches at Jack's upper arms, and finally manages to shove Jack away a little. His wide eyes search Jack's, his pupils dilated with worry.

“Jack... what...”

But Jack shakes his head, and places a finger over Ianto's lips. “Shh.” And with that, he crushes his mouth back onto Ianto's.

Although the younger man clearly has to sense the worry emanating from Jack in almost stifling waves, he quickly gives in, and takes control of the kiss. 

Arousal slowly starts to displace Jack's helpless desperation, and he plunges head-first into what Ianto is offering him, gladly handing control over to for him for now. 

Hello?!

Don't these two care that there's the tragedy of my case still to solve?! How nice for Jack that he feels better about the whole situation by fucking his boyfriend, but what about me?! How will them going at it  _ again _ down here change anything about my situation?! They should be up there with Tosh doing some tests, or be buried in a pile of mouldy documents that can give them a clue on how to help me, not drown their sorrows and Jack's fears of loss in a sea of happiness hormones.

I'd really appreciate a little consideration here for my plight, plea... Oh, that's good, yeah! Do that again, Tea Boy!

Okay, I'll let them finish just this one more time. It'll be over quick anyway (I swear, after I get back into my body, it'll be those two's fault when I'll be sex-addicted!).

Faster than I can blink, they are both (at least partly) naked, and, taking back control, Jack is pressing Ianto down onto his desk once more. If Jack's driven, desperate need wouldn't overwhelm me, almost drowning us both in it, I would make a sarcastic comment about variety here, but as it is, I can only hang on for the ride. As can Ianto. 

I haven't felt this from Jack before, this urgency, this frenzy, as he drives himself into Ianto with a desperation that borders on madness. But all Ianto does is meet the older man thrust for thrust while his fingers cling to the edges of the desk's surface so hard his knuckles turn white, selflessly giving everything he can to help Jack.

When Jack comes with a hoarse shout, I can't help but cry out myself as ecstasy comes crashing down upon us both, making his whole body shudder violently. 

Dear holy fucking God, they need to stop this. I really could get used to this sooner or later...

A scary thought...

Panting heavily, he leans over Ianto for a moment, breathing into the younger man's sweat-coated neck, and lets him carry his whole weight for a few seconds while he is still buried deep inside of the Welshman. 

Shuddering, Jack then presses a kiss into Ianto's neck, and, new determination streaming through him, struggles up so that he can pull out. With shaking hands, he fastens his trousers again. And all the while, both of us are only too aware of Ianto's inquisitive stare.

Jack won't meet Ianto's eyes, but the younger man won't have any of it, and draws Jack into a tight embrace.

“What was that all about?” he whispers into Jack's ear while he holds him. “Not that I'm complaining, mind you.”

Another shudder runs through Jack, and he sinks into Ianto's comforting arms. “It's Owen,” he mumbles which elicits a warning growl from Ianto.

That actually makes Jack laugh, probably what Ianto intended with his reaction.

“He's dying, Ianto,” Jack whispers, and Ianto's whole body stiffens.

Burying his face in the crook of Ianto's neck, Jack tightly closes his eyes, and clings to his lover. “I don't know what to do,” he admits softly. 

For a long time, Ianto doesn't say anything, just holds Jack close in silent support. But eventually, he gently shoves him away so that he can look him in the eye. 

“Don't feel guilty,” he says firmly. “Or responsible.”

“He's my employee, of course I feel responsible,” Jack grimaces, and I actually feel sorry for him. I can understand why he feels like this – so can Ianto, if his expression is anything to go by –, but it really isn't his fault. 

I wish I could tell him that. 

Shakily, Jack brushes a hand through his hair, and turns away from Ianto to start pacing the small area behind the desk agitatedly like a caged tiger, his trousers still undone. It would be ridiculous if the situation weren't so grave. 

“I feel even more helpless since I can't do anything,” Jack continues restlessly, his hands flying up to his hair to brush nervously through.

“Since we all agree that Owen's condition is clearly that device's fault, why won't you consider simply switching it back on? Maybe he'll wake up,” Ianto raises his voice so he can make himself known above Jack's pounding footsteps. At that, Jack stops abruptly, and turns back to Ianto. I feel him frown as he looks into his lover's patient face. 

At hearing Ianto's voice, a small sliver of hope had flared up for a split-second, but after progressing the suggestion, his hope dwindles again.

“No,” he finally says, sighing. “It's too dangerous, I told you that. What if something happens to one of you instead of helping Owen?” Jack shakes his head vigorously. “I could never forgive myself.”

“But if we don't do something soon, Owen will die,” Ianto argues back as he calmly puts his clothes back into order. “The rest of us could leave the Hub while you turn the thing on right next to Owen.”

Once more, Jack frowns, and actually contemplates what Ianto has said. I can only applaud to Tea Boy's suggestion, and try to convey as much to Jack.

Without any success, of course.

Eventually, Jack nods. Finally! “Yeah,” he says slowly. “That could work.”

New determination streaming through him, he nods at Ianto. “Yes, let's do that.”

Gwen, naturally, protests vehemently when Jack and Ianto tell the others of the plan. But before I can mentally kick Jack's ass to be a goddamn man and stand up to her, Tosh seems to be fed up with Gwen as well.

“Leave it, Gwen!” she raises her voice sternly. Gwen is so surprised that she clamps her mouth shut. “If you have forgotten, Jack can take care of himself, and if it's a chance to save Owen, we have to try.”

Staring at Tosh wide-eyed, Gwen eventually nods meekly, and lets herself be led out of the Hub by Ianto and Tosh. 

Jack and Ianto's eyes meet one last time before the team disappears through the cog door. For a moment, Jack stares after them before he shakes himself from his stupor. Grabbing the device, he jogs down into med bay.

“Finally alone,” he grins at my still body, and I have to roll my eyes. We both know that it's false cheer he is projecting.

He stands next to the autopsy table for a few moments, undecided, and looks down onto me. His nervous fingers play around with the device.

“For what it's worth,” he suddenly says into the eery silence, “I'm sorry, Owen.”

I feel his regret and sorrow which convey his feelings much more than any apology spoken out loud ever could. Sadly, I can't answer him to tell him it's okay.

Straightening up, Jack suddenly grips the device tighter. He turns the thing around in his hands, probing and prodding it as he tries to activate it somehow. “What did you do, Owen?” he mumbles through gritted teeth in his mounting frustrations.

Actually, I have no clue either how I activated the device. It just happened. Maybe it was just coincidence that I was near it when the, knowing our luck, probably broken thing activated.

So, no matter what Jack does, the little lights that started blinking before it knocked us both unconscious simply stay dead.

“Shit!” both of us say at the same time, he out loud, I in his head.

For a second, doubts spring up in my mind. What if the little lights activating actually didn't do anything? What if something else is responsible for my condition? Something that is still unknown to us, and has got nothing to do with this device?

It's improbable, but not impossible. Nothing is with Torchwood, after all.

The thought is alarming since that means the team would have to start from scratch. And maybe, I fear, I wouldn't have enough time left for them to get on the right track to solve this mess.

Jack tries a few more times to turn on the device, but to no avail.

Frustrated, he slams it down onto the autopsy table next to me with a loud metallic crash, making me wince, and stands there for a moment, his hands braced on the edges of the table, his head bowed in defeat.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers once more before he snatches up the device and flees upstairs again.

The others look as disappointed as Jack is when they come back and learn about the setback, but there's no time to further discuss the situation. Because in that moment, the Rift Alert blares through the Hub. Growling in frustration, Jack throws the device at Tosh with the instruction to keep trying, the device must be broken or something, before he orders Ianto and Gwen to come with him.

The silence in the SUV is opressive. Not even Gwen is trying to make any encouraging speeches.

The signal comes from somewhere in the sewers, and isn't that now what makes my day to top it all off?

Just when they ready themselves to climb down the dirty hole into the sewers, I remember something. Normally, it's of course my job to take a first aid kit into any possibly dangerous situations. This time though, nobody thinks about something like that of course since they're all reckless enough to run head first into danger. Jack must rub off on them, quite literally so onto one of the present company. 

And I did nost just think that. 

Suddenly cranky about so much irresponsibility, I snap a couple of times  _ First aid kit, first aid kit, first aid kit! _ at Jack. 

I am baffled when he suddenly pauses for a moment to grab the backpack with my first aid stuff in it from the boot, and throws it into Gwen's arms. Confused, both Gwen and Ianto look at Jack. The Captain suddenly grows a little flustered, and I sense his own confusion. He waves a hand not very eloquently. “It's just...” he tries to explain, but stops again.

Gwen then beams at him, but her smile is a little strained as she still eyes Jack strangely. “You're right,” she says much too brightly. “We have to think of taking care of our own without Owen around.”

I bristle at her patronising tone, Jack simply nodding as a reaction though. 

Without further words, he climbs into the sewers first. 

Jack's mood while trudging through the smelly sewers is gloomy again. It is almost overwhelming, and the charming environment of the stinky sewers of Cardiff doesn't really help in lifting  _ anyone's _ mood. 

To be honest, now that I have some time to think again, I start to share his gloomy thoughts full-heartedly because I'm at the end of my wits. What chance do we have to save me now? The only ways I can think of is making Tosh turn that thing inside out once more to get it to work after all. The other possibility would be calling Jack's Doctor. I'm not sure how he wants to do that. I don't imagine he has the famous alien on speed dial. Isn't there a rumour that the Doctor sometimes works for UNIT though? Maybe – even if none of us would like it – they could arrange a meeti...

“Jack!”

Jack startles violently, and I am jerked from my furious thoughts as well.

Owlishly, Jack blinks, and meets Gwen's eyes.

“You've been completely out of it,” she explains, and only then do we both realise that Jack has fallen back of the group when, a few minutes earlier, he was at the front. 

“Ehm,” Jack mumbles, completely thrown.

“What's been on your mind?” Ianto asks while Jack catches up to them again.

Rubbing his arm in a completely uncharistic nervous gesture, Jack shrugs. “I... I don't know.”

We both feel the other two's calculating frowns on him once more, and my mind starts to reel. What if... Yeah. What if I somehow influenced Jack? Him zooming out, falling back. Taking the first aid kit when I urged him to! Maybe my thinking was so overwhelming that I somehow influenced him. That would be a huge breakthrough because that means I finally get through to him. Surely he'll now realise that he has a hitchhiker.

A noise around a corner in the dark sewers stop us all, movements and thoughts alike, and for the moment, I decide not to think too much any more. If Jack's distracted now in a dangerous situation, something could happen to the others – not to say him; I still don't want to find out what dying is like. Or losing a limb.

Turns out it's a blasted Hoix! Which is loudly munching on the remains of... looks like it's been a Weevil once. Yuck. I can only wholeheartedly agree with the retching noises Gwen makes as well as Ianto's involuntary “Oh, gross!”. 

Unfortunately, the Hoix hears them as well, even over the crunching and smacking of its mighty jaws. It stills and then raises its head, turning into our direction. The head tilts, and I can hear it sniffing the air; Hoix can't see overly well, but they have a formidable sense of smell. 

The team has frozen for a moment, hardly daring to breath. Then, suddenly, the beast starts moving. With incredible speed, it lurches its massive body towards the team. Instinctively, they draw their weapons, even if they won't do much harm to a Hoix. Quickly, they spread out, surrounding it.

“We need tranquilisers,” Jack shouts. “I'll distract it while you get them from the SUV.”

“No time,” Ianto shouts back, and without preamble, whips out that handy stun gun he'd taken a habit of carrying around with him (I hope solely for professional reasons; I really don't want to descend any further into the abyss that is Tea Boy and the Captain's kinky sex life; the shaving incident had been enough).

“Ianto!” Jack barks, a horribly loud echo of the shout ringing through Jack's whole being like a scream of his soul. I feel the surprising amount of crushing panic race through him like an electric shock, but it is too late already. Swiftly, Ianto charges at the attacking Hoix, slips under the raised arm, cleverly avoiding the sharp talons like a wriggling fish, and thrusts the muzzle of the stun gun into the Hoix' side. The growling beast howls in outrage, then, its body seizes as electrical shocks zip through its body. With a deafening roar, it topples to the ground, flailing wildly. I think Jack's heart stops for a moment when, visible in the harsh light of our torches, we see Ianto's arm being clipped by sharp claws as he tries to jump out of the way of the flailing Hoix.

Then, everything is quiet again when the Hoix crashes to the ground, unconscious. 

The sound of heavy breathing, Ianto's, then reaches Jack's ears over the pounding sound of rushing blood. Without a second thought, he storms to Ianto's side, rage and worry spiralling him forward. 

“Are you okay?” he demands, and his frantic gaze takes in Ianto's slightly bedraggled form. 

“Yeah, fine,” Ianto answers through gritted teeth, but he presses his right hand tightly on to the gash in his left arm. 

Angrily, Jack almost yanks Ianto's hand away to take a look himself. Although he tries to hide it – and I can clearly feel that at least part of his anger isn't just about Ianto's risky stunt, but that he suddenly feels so completely helpless, vulnerable already in his worries about me, but now having to fear for Ianto, his lover, as well –, his hands are shaking badly. Suddenly, there's only helplessness left that he's projecting onto me. 

_ Jack! Snap out of it, do something!  _ I scream at him, desperately urging him to pull himself together and do something.

Determined, I grit my teeth mentally, and suddenly push forward with my whole being. Blocking out Gwen's frantic shouts and her fluttering around Ianto like a hysterical, wide-eyed mother hen, I resolutely turn Ianto around, and snap at Gwen to point the torch onto the wound. To my amazement – and as I'd, on a sudden spur of the moment, hoped in Jack's suddenly unfocussed, frantic state –, Jack's body obeys my commands almost as if I were in my own body. 

“Hold still,” I snap at Ianto who has the nerve to try wriggling away from my grip as I peel his suit jacket off of him. 

“Jack, do you know what you're doing?” Gwen asks, wide-eyed, but still holds the torch in place obediently after she has handed over the backpack with the first aid stuff.

I don't answer to that, nor do I react to Ianto's grumbled “I can't believe I'm saying this, but I wish Owen was here,” as he critically eyes what Jack's hands are doing.

A sudden, familiar calm descends over me as I start to examine Ianto's arm, instinctively catalogueing in my mind the severity of the wound, and what can I do for him right this moment. 

Not much, I realise. Bandaging it properly can wait until we're back at the Hub, a basic dressing has to be enough for now to stop the bleeind, but one thing...

Taking a filled syringe from the backpack, I suddenly spin Ianto around roughly. His violent protest dies in his throat and makes way for a pained and affronted yelp when I shove his trousers down a little, and pluck the needle into the flesh at the top of his right buttock. 

Boiling with indignation, he spins around to me the moment I pull the needle out.

“Are you nuts?!” he cries, his eyes blazing dangerously.

I shrug calmly. “Just sparing you some nasty infections from the Hoix's claws, you're welcome, Tea Boy.”

I only realise that I, no, Jack, said that out loud when I am confronted with two thunderstruck co-workers whose eyes are almost falling out of their heads as they stare at their boss in shock. 

Suddenly, Jack shakes his head; a movement that comes not from me. Puzzled, he returns Gwen and Ianto's stares.

“What?” he snaps self-consciously. 

“What did you just say?” Ianto asks, still wide-eyed, and he looks as if he wants to back away a step. 

“What di... I don't know what you're talking about,” Jack huffs, and wants to cross his arms in front of his chest. Only then does he realise he still holds the empty syringe. As if it would bite him, he drops it, startled. “And why do I have that thing in my hand?”

Ianto cocks an eyebrow. “You just gave me a shot against... whatever,” he calmly explains as if to a small child (at least he doesn't sound as patronising as Gwen which really raises my hackles every time she does it).

Jack blinks violently. “I did?” Then, his gaze suddenly turns concerned when he spies the wound on Ianto's arm visible through his torn shirt. “Are you okay?”

Ianto turns bodily away from Jack as the Captain rushes forward to inspect the wound.

“I'm fine,” he states firmly, “but what I'd really like to know is how you know what to do, giving me that shot against anything nasty.”

Blinking, Jack stares at Ianto, then at the backpack at his feet. “I...” He swallows heavily, and cocks his head in confusion. “I don't know. Instinct probably. I have some basic medical knowledge if you believe it or not. Any of us would have thought of that, right?”

Neither Ianto nor Gwen confirm his hypothesis, and Gwen looks suspiciously as if she was just short of grabbing Ianto's stun gun to take out this strange new version of their boss.

“Ianto?” she asks, completely unsure and helpless being confronted with the man she looks up to suddenly behaving like that. 

“I know,” Ianto answers in clipped tones, and I see the exact second Ianto comes to a conclusion about what's going on here. “Let's leave the Hoix, we have a much bigger problem.”

“I called you what?” Jack exclaims back at the Hub when Gwen and Ianto explain what happened to a frowning Tosh. 

Her laser-like gaze then focusses on Jack. We both actually start to squirm under her analytical gaze. 

“It's very telling, isn't it,” she muses.

Suddenly, she grasps the lapel of Jack's coat to drag him away.

“Come on, Jack,” she orders, “let's see if what Ianto suspects is true.”

Tosh's soft “Bugger” a while later can't mean anything good. 

“What?” Jack asks, and squirms around on his seat on an uncomfortable stool down in the med bay, wanting to get up to look over Tosh's shoulder behind the computer. But Ianto's hand clamping down on his shoulder firmly stops him.

“The instruments actually detect two separate brain waves inside your head,” Tosh explains gravely. Tiping quickly, she projects the results onto the wall for all to see. 

“Damn,” Ianto mutters beside Jack who answers with a heart-felt “Oh shit” of his own. 

“And we never realised until an hour ago,” Gwen gasps, shocked.

“Jack,” Tosh turns to Jack without acknowledging Gwen's comment, “I want to repeat the tests every hour. I fear that Owen's mind gets stronger inside your head. That he could overtake your body without you remembering it afterwards all of a sudden is an indication for that. I'm worried.”

“And we're really sure it's Owen's charming personality I carry around in my head?” Jack asks, frowning. 

Hey! Me taking over saved your boyfriend, Harkness! A little bit more respect if you please.

Ianto cocks an eyebrow. “Believe me, you calling me Tea Boy hints exactly at Owen's charming personality as you put it.”

As if one, they all look over their shoulders to focus on my still body on the autopsy table. 

It's a sorry sight, and I wish I could avert my eyes. 

“Okay,” Jack sighs, not really happy to be subjected to regular tests. He rolls his shoulders and looks at everybody. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” 

His eyes meet Ianto's, and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

Ianto, since he is actually clever and can put two and two together, quickly snaps “Paperwork”, drowning out Tosh's “Carry on as normal” with that.

Jack pouts for a moment at Ianto, but then, he shrugs and makes his way into his office.

A while later, Ianto comes in carrying a steaming mug of coffee as a peace offering. After placing it in front of Jack, he perches on the edge of the desk. A little self-conscious, he fixes his gaze firmly onto the smooth wood, and starts scratching nervously at a rough spot with a fingernail. 

“Jack?”

“Hm?” Jack watches Ianto closely, but the younger man won't meet his eyes. 

“Can you feel him? Inside your head, I mean.”

“No.” Thoughtfully, Jack leans back in his chair, his hands folded over his stomach. “But...” He frowns. “While we had sex... Thinking about it now, there was something there, in my mind.” He leans forward again, placing his elbows on the desk. “As if my arousal was doubled somehow. Must have been Owen.”

He peeks up at Ianto, not without a certain amount of cheeky gleefulness. But he makes sure not to let Ianto see. 

Not that he would have. The only reaction Ianto shows to the definite confirmation to his suspicions that I have been privy to their sex life is scratching harder at the desk without looking up while his cheeks become beet-red. 

Eventually, he clears his throat, obviously swallowing down his mortification. “I see,” he simply says woodenly.

“It's okay, Ianto,” Jack tries to reassure him, and leans forward in his chair again and turning it to face Ianto fully, gently placing his hand onto Ianto's knee. 

Way to go, Harkness. 

Jack himself realises that he has stuck his foot in his mouth with that when Ianto's gaze finally snaps up to glare at Jack. The Captain winces. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but dares to reach for Ianto's good hand, closing his fingers around Ianto's to still them in their frantic scratching. 

“'S not as if we can do anything about it now.” 

“Being caught in the act gets a whole new meaning like that,” Ianto mumbles, ignoring Jack's attempt at mollifying him.

Jack chuckles at that, and it seems infectuous as a small chuckle escapes the younger man despite everything.

“I'll never be able to look him in the eye again,” Ianto then states.

Pulling Ianto's hand up so he can press a kiss on his knuckles, Jack laughs softly. “I'm sure Owen feels the same.”

“You bet I do!”

Jack lets out a sudden startled yelp.

“What?” Ianto's gaze snaps up, and he searches Jack's face, wide-eyed with concern. “Jack, what's going on?”

But Jack ignores Ianto. “Owen?!”

Ianto puffs up his cheeks in affront, and...

Wait a minute... 

“Jack?” I try tentatively.

“Holy shit!” Jack exclaims, and his hand flies to his head automatically.

Ianto stares at him for a dumbfounded moment, then he groans in exasperation. “Oh no, please don't tell me you can talk to him in your head now.”

“Oh yes, he can!” I crow, happy that I can finally make myself known... even if that probably means that our dilemma is worsening.

Jack winces at the loud voice in his head.

“Tone it down, would ya!” he snaps angrily, and cradles his head in his hands.

“Do you know how creepy that is, you holding one-sided conversations?” Ianto grumbles, and Jack throws him a nasty glare. Ignoring Jack's reaction though, the younger man cocks his head questioningly. “What's it like?”

Jack frowns, still pouting. “Strange. I can suddenly feel his presence in my head. I couldn't feel anything at all before. Well, apart from the double arousal during orgasm. I could probably only feel him then because my mental shields are weakest during climax.”

“Yeah,” I growl, “if you had said something sooner, then I could have tried harder to make myself known earlier. Do you know how frustrating it was being stuck in your head without any chance to communicate?”

“Yeah,” Jack parrots, “and do you know how frustrating it is to have your needless comments inside my head without having the chance to tune you out?”

“Wait a minute!” Ianto suddenly barks, and he glares at Jack although this time I get the feeling that he's glaring at me. “What do you mean  _ double _ arousal?” Ianto balls his hands into tight fists, his lips pressed together firmly. “Does that mean that Owen bloody Harper was not only privy to our sex life, but that he also got off on it?!”

By now, Ianto is shouting, and Jack backs away nervously. I can only applaud to that self-preserving reaction. 

“What do you expect?” I sneer, even if Ianto can't hear me. “It's sex.”

“Not helping, Owen!” Jack snaps, then frowns. “And it's damn fantastic sex, mind you.”

“Stop it!” Ianto hisses. “At least carry out your conversations inside your head, Jack.”

Jack grins sheepishly at him at that. “Sorry. Can't help myself.”

Breathing heavily through his nose, Ianto crosses his arms in front of his chest, and once more glares down at Jack. Even I can see that, behind the glare, he desperately tries to set aside what he had learned just now for the moment. “You've got a point,” he admits, scrunching up his nose in revulsion. “I imagine shouting out loud at him is the only satsifying way to deal with the situation.”

Jack nods empathically. 

Throwing his hands into the air in defeat, Ianto slips from the desk. “Come on. Let's Tosh have a look at you. Suddenly starting to hear him inside your head can't mean anything good.”

While Jack obediently follows Ianto, I can only agree that, no, it really can't mean anything good.

“Your brain waves are rapidly aligning.”

Tosh's words ring in the silence that has suddenly descended over the med bay. They feel like a death sentence to me. I feel Jack's shock about that news, too.

“That explains why Owen's body's getting weaker, right?” Gwen asks. “The more his and Jack's brain waves align, the weaker his body gets. The... I don't know, the connection between Owen's mind and body weakens since the mind doesn't need the body any more since it's found a new body in Jack's.”

“Basically, yes,” Tosh nods approvingly to that explanation. 

“But at the same time, it means that Owen can take over Jack's body, and can now speak to him inside his head,” Ianto adds with an alarmed frown wrinkling his brow while he stares at the screen in front of us showing a chart of Jack and mine's brainwaves. “The question is, where will this stop?”

Tosh makes an affirmative and then a worried noise.

Nervously, Jack brushes his fingers through his hair, swallowing heavily. “We're merging with each other,” he states, me saying the exact same words in the same second. He freezes, and stares into the distance for a moment, his hand rubbing his temple.

“Jack?” Gwen asks, unsure.

“He said the exact same thing, didn't he?” Tosh makes an educated guess, and Jack gives a small nod.

Damn. Obviously, the blackout phase is already over, and we've scipped right to the creepy saying-things-at-the-same-time phase because we're converging more and more.

“What happens when their consciousnesses merge completely?” Gwen helplessly looks from one to the other, seeking answers.

Tosh bites her lower lip. “I'm... not sure. There's no chance of predicting what this will mean for Jack, but...” Nervously, and with a healthy amount of fear in her eyes, her gaze flits over to my unconscous body for a second. “Owen's body will definitely die. His condition is getting worse and worse, simply shutting down.”

The silence that suddenly descends over the team is oppressive and gloomy.

Pressing his lips together in determination, Jack advances on Tosh, beseechingly grasping her shoulders, and looking her deeply in the eye. “What can we do to stop this?”

Furrowing her brow unhappily, Tosh looks away, not able to meet Jack's piercing gaze. “I don't know, Jack. I really don't know.”

“What about Owen?” Ianto asks. “Does he have any idea? Maybe get some ideas from his unique perspective.”

“No.” Sighing heavily, Jack shakes his head. His gaze zooms in on Tosh again, and she tentatively meets his eyes when he gently places his fingers under her chin to tip her head up. “I trust you, Tosh.” He smiles encouragingly at her, but even if I couldn't feel how false his hope and faith is, I'd know his smile is watery and not really convincing. “You're the only one who can solve this mess.”

“Thanks,” Tosh snorts nervously. “No pressure there.”

“I know,” Jack whispers, and draws her into a tight embrace, pressing a firm kiss onto the crown of her head. 

They stay like that for a few long moments before he releases her. Trying to put on a brave, confident facade, she nods, and sits herself down in front of the computer again.

“What's it like?” Gwen suddenly asks into the almost suffocating, sombre atmosphere a little too forcefully, stating the same question Ianto had earlier. “Having someone in your head that talks to you?” 

Composing himself for the time being, I feel that Jack wants to give her the same answer he gave Ianto, probably including the dual orgasm part which would go over incredibly well with our colleagues, and possibly embarrass Ianto to death, but then, he changes his mind. “Know this concept of having a little devil and a little angel on your shoulder to tell you what's wrong and right?”

Gwen nods, her eyes wide in fascination despite everything, and Tosh can't really clear herself from not being interested either if her fingers freezing over the keyboard in her rapid typing is any indication.

“Well, it's like that.”

Ianto snorts. “Having Owen Harper of all people inside your head as your consciousness can't be healthy.”

Everyone makes a noise of agreement while I draw in breath – figuratively – to give him a piece of my mind, then think better about it though. Ianto wouldn't hear it anyway, and we actually have bigger problems. I can yell at him or take the piss about his performance in bed when I'm back in my body.

To not pressure Tosh unduly any more than is necessary, the rest of the team leave the med bay while she works frantically at the device again, trying to get it running again, and trying to connect it to my body somehow. Although she is clearly terrified that my life now lies in her capable hands alone, she's snapped at the others that she doesn't need any help. It's not fair to let her work alone on the problem, but if that's how she wants it, then the others have to respect that. And to be truthful, they wouldn't be any help in this anyway. Not even I could have been much help since the medical part of the whole problem is just the result, not the cause. The cause is that device.

A few hours pass during which Jack, to get his mind off my dire situation, actually throws himself into paperwork. But eventually, Ianto comes to get him, and we all settle up in the boardroom for something to eat. I'm surprised that Tosh is there as well, looking tired and tense, but judging by the glare she throws Ianto, the Welshman must have somehow forced her up here. 

“Eat,” he orders in a clipped voice, placing a fragrant plate of Indian takeaway and a steaming mug of coffee in front of her. “We all have to gather new strength.” 

Muttering softly, Tosh does as she's told, seeing the wisdom of Ianto's words. We all do, actually. I'm famished. Or Jack is, I don't know. Probably both of us, and I moan softly when he starts attacking his own meal put in front of him with gusto. 

“Oh God,” Gwen gasps, aghast, and Jack looks at her questioningly while chewing noisily. “Now you're eating like Owen!”

Before Jack can swallow his mouth-full so that either he or I can make a cutting remark, Ianto throws in, unblinking, “That's not Owen's influence, he's always eating like  _ that _ .” And at that, Ianto scrunches up his nose, stuffing the napkin covering his chest more securely into his collar as if making a point.

“Not all of us can be as anal as you,” I sneer at him.

“ _ That _ 's Owen,” the Welshman continues, unfazed.

Ignoring Jack suddenly wincing at the outburst I caused, Gwen turns suddenly wide eyes onto Tosh instead of letting her eat in peace for five minutes. “Can that happen? Jack overtaking some of Owen's manners?”

Tosh bristles at that. “How should I know? But he probably did already by Owen taking over his body to treat Ianto. So, what's your problem!”

A little shocked at Tosh's uncharacteristic outburst, Gwen slumps back into her chair, and starts picking at her food, throwing nervous glances in Jack's direction every now and then.

The meal after that is oppressive and awkward, and I'd really like to roll my eyes and just tell them to suck it up. But I hold back since I have to admit that me talking through Jack may be a little bit creepy seen from my colleagues' perspective.

As soon as he can, Jack flees from the boardroom, for once not giving a damn that he's supposed to make the hard decisions. Only this time, there is nothing he can do any more anyway, and we all know that. He most of all.

I feel the maelstrom that are his emotions battering against my mind's defenses, and now, he, in all likelihood, can feel mine, too. And that's the problem. What are you supposed to do when you have your co-worker's mind stuck in your own head while said co-worker's body lies dying in the meantime. This isn't some bad B-movie body-swap comedy with tons of awkward and embarrassing moments for the protagonists, this is real. And deadly serious. 

Breathing heavily in agitation, Jack slips through several hidden and narrow passageways I've never been to in the Hub, not caring that I see where he's going (as if I would be able to remember the way anyway). 

We go up and up until finally, Jack thrusts open a hatch, and miraculously, we are on the roof of the Millenium Centre. Figures that he would go somewhere high when he's upset. His unholy fascination for heights isn't really a secret among us after all. 

Standing in the middle of the huge, gently sloping roof, he stems his hands into his hips, his frantic breathing slowly calming down again as the harsh breeze from the sea blows into his face as if ripping away all his worries. 

I'd never thought I would ever witness Captain Jack Harkness having a helpless breakdown, least of all because of me. Because of Gwen, sure. And I've felt his frantic worry for Ianto as well which he has normally covered up pretty well, but me? I know he cares, sure, but obviously, we were all wrong in how deeply he cares...

“I'm sorry, Owen,” he suddenly says out loud, his trembling hands stemmed into his hips curling into fists.

“I know,” I tell him, and hope that he can hear me. “You do all you can.”

Jack shakes his head. “It's not enough. I'm at my wit's end,” he confesses, lost, his voice breaking slightly at the end. “I've never experienced something like that before. I don't know... What are...”

But suddenly, his helpless stuttering comes to a violent stop as he cries out, wrapping his arms around his middle and bending over as if to protect himself from an attack. I cry out at the same moment as something, an all encompassing force, slams into my mind. The same seems to happen to Jack because the onslaught brings him to his knees forcefully. In the next second though, I have other things on my mind than being concerned for Jack because what is battering against my mind's shields are countless pictures, and feelings, and smells. It's memories! Jack's memories, I realise, that come crashing down on me like a tsunamie. Over one hundred years of memories try to cram themselves inside my own mind all at once. 

For long moments, I am completely frozen, the rush is so horrible and overwhelming that I can't move, wouldn't be able to breathe if I still could, can't stem myself against the violent tide. Fear sparks brightly through me. Will Jack's memories sweep me away so that nothing will be left of me? It's so much, so forceful. How can he stand remembering all this? It's a wonder his experiences haven't driven him mad by now. 

White noise rings in my ears, drowning out everything around me. I realise it's me screaming. I can't make out if Jack's screaming as well. 

Pressure against the side of his skull bring me back into the here and now; cowering on the roof of the Millenium Centre, he's pressing his hands against the sides of his head so as if to try to stop this. I wish he could. But the memories still come flooding in. 

If I get his memories, then surely, he must get mine as well – which aren't so many compared to his –, but since we're feeling the same things and sensations, the force of his own memories crashing down upon me must be what has brought him to his knees, not him getting my memories.

And then, suddenly, it stops.

The silence that descends around us feels like a bubble that shields us from the rest of the world. The only thing I can hear is Jack's ragged, loud breathing and the rush of blood in his ears. His head is pounding, and I feel as if I will faint any minute now.

Weakly, he clumsily rearranges his limbs from his crouched position until he can stretch his legs out in front of him, his elbows placed on his slightly bend knees. 

He tries to move as little as possible while I try not to think too much; otherwise, I'm terrified that Jack's memories will suck me in, and I will never find my way back out. I already feel as if they have changed who I am forever.

I have lost all sense of time while we sit and wait, recovering. Just waiting...

“What a mess,” I suddenly hear Jack say glumly, although I feel that his lips haven't actually moved. “I've always been so careful about nobody knowing, and now Owen knows  _ everything _ ...”

With slight shock, I realise that now, I can hear Jack's thoughts, too. Talking to me in his head, okay, but now, apparrently, we've reached the stage where I can read his thoughts if he wants to or not. Can he read mine as well? Doesn't seem so. He doesn't seem to have noticed anything.

“I can hear you think,” I suddenly alert him, startling Jack violently from his furious musings.

“What?” he asks out loud, slightly disconcerted, and he raises his head to stare into the distance over the Bay.

I chuckle darkly in his head. “Seems we have reached the next stage. As if actually getting battered with over one hundred years worth of memories wasn't enough. Now, I can hear what you're thinking.”

Jack grinds his teeth in put-out annoyance. An onslaught of his emotions suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks; annoyance, grief, even panic. And all because I have had a glimpse of the bottomless melting pot that are his memories. But after all, there is, by now, no secret left that I don't know about him, and I once more really have to work hard to push all these overwhelming memories down. Sensing his dread, I feel bad for knowing him inside out now, I have to admit. It hasn't been my intention to sneak a peak at his whole life, after all, but it just happened. None of us could help it. Now I know, and, although a horrible experience that I clearly wouldn't recommend, a part of me is actually glad I do, even if he hates the fact. I understand Jack so much better now, what shaped him into the man he is, the loss of his brother and father, the Time Agency, the Doctor, The Year That Never Was (Holy Shit, just to think about such a horrifying possibility – and Jack still had to remember all of it...), countless betrayals, lost lovers... But another part of me is horrified to have seen what he had to endure in his long life. I have my own horrors I have to deal with, it's hard having to come to terms now with the memories from another person to top it off.

For both our sakes, I wish I could forget I had ever seen these memories.

But I can't. 

He doesn't think anything right now, his mind is blank; there's just emotions. But the unease he feels about me knowing is almost oppressive. Underneath that, there is another emotion that's harder to grab at first. Regret. And I get glimpses of Ianto's face in his mind.

Maybe at least I can do something about those worries...

“Jack?”

He startles slightly at first, so as if he had forgotten that I was even there. “Hm?” 

“Tell him.”

“What?”

Taking a deep breath – figuratively –, I try to gentle my voice as much as I can. “ _ I _ know about your past now. But it's not  _ my _ place to know.”

“I don't understand.”

“Ianto has a right to know. Tell him.” I give a soft mental nudge inside Jack's head. “When this is all over, tell him everything. He of all people deserves to know. And you know he will keep every secret you entrust him with.”

“Well, well, Owen,” Jack mocks, trying to play light on our conversation which, of course, doesn't work since he can't really hide anything from me anymore. “Can it be you like Ianto after all?”

I can't help but snort. “Having to watch you two in action probably scarred me for life, so I'm not accountable for anything I do or say at the moment.”

Jack snorts at that, out loud, so we both are glad that nobody is around to witness the Captain having a conversation with himself. But then, I feel his mood become more serious again. “I will,” he promises, a sudden calm and peace running through him. “Thanks for caring.”

“Don't thank me,” I scoff in disgust, and would have turned away pointedly if I possessed a body of my own right now to do so.

Jack's legs, that by now actually feel like my own, are like jelly when he eventually struggles to his feet again. Missing his usual easy grace, he scrambles down the hatch in the roof, back through the secret tunnels until we have returned to the Hub. 

“Jack!” Gwen cries upon spotting him, descending on us like an insufferable mother hen. “Where have you been?”

Beside her, Tosh – obviously having abandoned her vigil and frantic work on my unconscious body for the time being – twitches in her seat, but she doesn't ask where we've been. She rather looks as if she dearly wishes to have fled the Hub earlier as well. Poor woman, having been left with Gwen and her well-meant but ill-conceived attempts at comfort. Ianto is nowhere to be seen, he'd probably managed to weasel his way around Gwen to escape. 

Now that her hero has returned to focus her attention on though, she has the sole target of her worry back, and doesn't have to concern herself with us mere mortals anymore.

“Just needed to be alone for a while,” he replies offhandedly, waving her concerns away.

“That's the whole point of this, isn't it,” Tosh grimly cuts Gwen off when the Welshwoman opens her mouth. “Being alone.”

Equally as grimly, Jack nods.

“How are you both really?”

Reluctantly, Jack bites his lower lip. “It's getting worse.”

“Are you two really melding together?” Gwen asks, her big eyes opened wide in worry and incomprehension.

“Yes, Cooper, how thick are you that you still haven't got it by now?!”

The crestfallen, absolutely betrayed look on her face tells me that I said that out loud. Oops. I'm so, so sorry.

Swallowing heavily, Gwen visibly composes herself as she tries to remember that those acidic words did come out of Jack's mouth, but weren't actually his.

Jack winces once more, and at least for him, I feel a bit sorry.

He looks from one woman to the other, and suddenly, he can't cope with telling them. I know how he feels; I wouldn't want to have to bear Gwen's betrayed look either when she learns that someone else now knows Jack best in this world, not her. 

His gaze comes to rest on Tosh, silently pleading for sympathy, before he simply breezes past them in the direction of the lower levels.

This is so unlike him, taking the coward's way out, but in this particular situation, I think it's okay for him to feel so much out of his depth. If I were in his position, I would struggle, too. But as it is, I can only hang on for the ride, damned even more to inaction than he is.

“Where are you going?” I ask, nonethelss a little irritated which is promptly reflected back at me together with such a sudden sense of longing that it almost makes me puke.

“Where do you think?” he snaps.

“Okay, let me rephrase that: Why?”

“I have to talk to him.”

“I know I'm the one to encourage opening yourself up to Tea Boy, but don't you think that has time until after I am not privy to your hearts to hearts any more?”

“Shut up now, Owen,” Jack presses forth through gritted teeth, balling his hands into fists while he hurries down the stairs. “Just let me talk to Ianto.”

The unspoken “Before I lose my nerve to do so” rings loudly between us.

I sigh in exasperation. I could try to take over his body again to get him to turn around, but I don't want to have to listen to his bitching the whole time afterwards. Well then, for Heaven's sake, have your talk with Tea Boy. I can wait since I have oh so much time left after all.

Jack's hurried steps only stop when he arrives in the doorway to Ianto's office in the Archives. For a moment, he simply stands there, and watches his lover, desperately trying to quell down the myriad of emotions and thoughts swirling through his head – although if he actually wants to prevent me from learning them or if he simply doesn't want to think them for himself, I can't tell.

Swallowing heavily, Jack finally steps fully into the room.

“Ianto?”

Sighing, Ianto looks up from his work, and regards Jack with a slightly wary gaze.

Oh yeah, with everything that had happened to Jack and me on the Millenium Centre, I had forgotten that the introverted Welshman must still be digesting the little fact that I have been present while they had sex. And I bet he's also worrying about what our current situation must mean for his and Jack's future. He is right to worry. I'm not really looking forward to spending the rest of my (now eternal?) life, or at least the rest of Ianto's life as Tea Boy's boyfriend. All the more reason to quickly find a solution.

“He's quiet for now,” Jack tries to appease him. Well... tough, Harkness, I'm still there. I just chose to shut up for the moment like you wanted. Doesn't mean that I'm gone. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't simply tune out. 

“But he's still there,” Ianto retorts, hitting it spot on. “Always there.”

“I know. But not for much longer, I hope.” Jack shrugs. “We will think of something.”

Ianto nods empathically. “I really hope we do. I...” He bites his lower lip. “I'm not sure I could cope with Owen witnessing more of our sex life.”

“Do you think I could!? I'm the real victim here!”

Jack ignores me, but eyes the younger man closely instead. We can tell that Ianto is still mortified at the thought, but apart from blushing furiously, he doesn't show any reaction, not even now when they are alone.

“I'm not happy about that either,” Jack sighs, and Ianto blinks at him, surprised that Jack lets the chance of some inappropriate innuendo pass by. He shrugs, then, always pragmatical, a small grin quirks his lips. “But at least, Owen will leave you alone from now on. No more taunts about your sexual prowess or any such rubbish.”

Pfft... But... okay, maybe I am prepared to lay off a little in the future.

Ianto rolls his eyes. “I feel so much better now.”

“Good.” Jack grins, completely ignoring Ianto's sarcasm. Instead, he creeps closer, and perches on the edge of Ianto's desk. He takes Ianto's hand in his. 

Opening his mouth, Ianto beats him to it though.

“How are you, Jack?”

Jack snaps his mouth shut. 

“What happened up on that roof?”

“Why do you think I was on a roof?” Jack ask evasively, but Ianto only cocks an eyebrow at that. Jack sighs heavily. “Yeah, okay, I was. You know me too well.”

“And?”

The Captain shrugs, not meeting Ianto's eyes, and instead picking at a bit of lint on his trousers. 

Ianto makes a non-committal noise. “Okay, then I'll go first. A while ago, Owen's condition detoriated rapidly all of a sudden.”

That catches both of our attention immediately, and Jack's gaze snaps up; I'm unsure if it's me or him executing the move. 

“He's in a bad way, but stable now,” Ianto explains, and searches Jack's gaze. “We tried to contact you, but couldn't reach you.”

Jack shakes his head. “I...” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I didn't even notice.”

Ianto presses his lips together and nods. “I barely managed to stop Gwen from storming out of the Hub to organise a search party for you.” The Welshman indicates the computer terminal in front of him on his desk. “While Tosh was busy stabilising Owen's body, I found you on the CCTV. I had an inkling that I would find you up there on the roof.”

Jack frowns, and his tone as he finally speaks is a little harsher than he intended. “And you didn't tell the others or come get me?”

Ianto shrugs apologetically. “I monitored you from here. You seemed... not fine, but not in any danger. I wanted to give you some time to sort yourself out after whatever happened up there.”

That takes out the sting of Jack's mood again all of a sudden, and his tightly drawn shoulders suddenly sink like a deflated balloon. “Thanks, Ianto. I appreciate that.” Jack squeezes Ianto's hand that he's still holding with one of his own a bit more.

Ianto nods, pressing his lips together, and by now, I know he isn't telling the whole truth – or rather, Jack sees this since he knows all of Ianto's little tells (as do I now; could come in handy in the future). I realise that his cool facade is just that. In reality, I can only imagine how hard it must have been for him to sit here and watch Jack suffer over the CCTV. But unlike Gwen, he respects Jack's privacy, and would only have hurried up onto the roof of the Millenium Centre when he thought Jack to be in actual danger. I can't say how much I appreciate his sense for tact for the first time in my life. Having Gwen and her hysterical howling and tears up there while we both felt as if our heads were just exploding would have probably led to one of us punching Gwen to get her to back off.

As if this renewed (if unneccessary, really) proof of Ianto's trustworthiness is the push he needs, Jack pulls himself together, and puts his other hand on Ianto's as well.

“Ianto... When this is all over... I have to tell you something.”

Nervous about the sudden proclamation, Ianto cocks an eyebrow.

“Actually, a lot of somethings.”

“Jack?” Ianto searches Jack's face for any clues, slightly worried, but can't seem to read the Captain for once.

Jack smiles at him reassuringly, and squeezes his hand. “I want you to know everything about me.”

On instinct, Ianto wants to protest. “You don't have to...” he exclaims, and startles with surprise. “I don't need to know your secrets.”

Smiling gently, Jack raises Ianto's hand towards his mouth, and presses a kiss onto the back of it. “I know you accept me for who I am even without knowing what I have done, where I've been. And that's amazing. You likely would even forgive me for most of the things I did if you knew about them, I realise that now.”

“I would,” Ianto confirms, still puzzled. “Because I love you,” is probably on the tip of Tea Boy's tongue. It would have been the proper thing to add to these words. For normal people. I want to puke at the mere thought, and shake him at the same time for not actually saying it. But they're probably not like that anyway... 

Yeah, sure, who do they want to kid?! Themselves, for sure. Jack's thoughts have been shocking proof that these two idiots are too afraid to admit to the startling depth of their feelings for each other. But, no matter how much they deny themselves, that Jack wants to tell him all about himself is, for me, and surely for Ianto as well, major proof of Jack's feelings for him even without any heartfelt love-confessions. 

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Ianto wonders. “Do you want to tell the others as well?”

“No!” Shocked blue eyes meet Ianto's, and Jack's answer has been more forceful than intended. Smiling crookedly, he pats Ianto's hand that he still holds tight betweem his own. “No,” he repeats, more softly this time. “They wouldn't understand. But Owen... He, well...” Jack makes a helpless gesture. “While I was up there on the roof of the Millenium Centre, suddenly, our minds seemed to meld together for a moment.”

He trails off, and, unhappily, chances a glance at Ianto from under lowered lashes.

The younger man looks thoughtful for a long moment, and he nods in understanding, probably piecing together what he just learned with what he had seen on CCTV earlier. 

“He saw it all,” Ianto then breaths in realisation.

“He did. And I feel guilty about that. He won't ever tell anybody, I know that, but, Ianto...” And at that, Jack looks him deeply in the eye, taking in a deep breath to steel himself. “If there is one person on this planet, Hell, even in this universe, who deserves to know it all, it's you.”

Ianto looks as if a sudden lump in his throat makes breathing difficult for a moment, and he looks as if tears are pricking the corners of his eye. At least, he blinks furiously to try get rid of them. Get a grip on yourself, Tea Boy, and kiss the idiot already, you idiot!

As if Ianto has actually heard me, he suddenly surges up, and wraps his arms around Jack's neck, pressing himself flush agianst the Captain's body.

Jack makes a surprised but pleased and happy noise when Ianto's lips collide with his, and soon gives as good as he gets.

It's frustrating, but once more, I have to admit what a good kisser Ianto fucking Jones is. I won't ever tell him that though, of course. He'd just find a way to twist things around, and get back at me with that.

Just as I'm contemplating taking over Jack's body to shock both of them a bit by butting in to the kiss myself, Jack gasps, and stumbles back. At the same time, a feeling as if a ton of bricks suddenly drops onto me forces both of us to our knees. Only at the last moment can Jack catch himself at the edge of the table to hold himself upright. 

We both ignore Ianto's frantic calling of Jack's name and his attempts to support the Captain.

“Let's get you upstairs,” I hear Ianto's voice as if from far, far away, and I'm only barely aware that the younger man half drags, half carries Jack back up into the Hub. 

“Owen!” Jack's voice rings around me.

“It's happening again,” I gasp. “We're merging together.”

It's as bad as before. It's overwhelming and it hurts. The only consolation being that now, our memories don't meld again since that has already happened. 

But it still fucking hurts!

As if through cotton wool, I realise that we have arrived up in the main part of the Hub, and that Gwen is now steadying us as well. 

Lump cushions covered with scratchy fabric break our fall as we're lowered none too gently onto the sofa. I want to protest that we should be in the fucking med bay, but at the same time, I realise that the autopsy table is occupied with my body.

My dying body, in all likelihood.

“Tosh, what's happening?”

Ianto's voice, unnaturally loud, rings in our ears as he shouts through the Hub to reach Tosh wherever she is.

“It's happening again,” her frantic voice echoes up from the med bay. “He's having seizures again.”

Shit. It's my body she's talking about. Sometimes, I simply forget that I still have a body of my own. Being inside Jack's mind and body has come to feel so natural, as if  _ this _ is actually my own body.

“Gwen, go help her,” Ianto asks Gwen through gritted theeth while he desperately tries to keep Jack still as his body suddenly spasms in pain. The pressure of Ianto's hands holding us down breaches through the fog of our addled minds, keeping the pain at bay for a few moments, grounding us.

“What about Jack?!” 

Jack blinks open tired eyes to look up into the deer-like, wide eyes of Gwen Cooper.

“For God's sake, just do as he says!” we snap at her, and this time, I'm really not sure if this came from me or actually both of us.

Startled, her wide eyes search our gaze, but then actually does as she's told, her lips pressed together firmly.

We both breath a sigh of relief when she's gone.

“Wouldn't it be better if you're the one helping Tosh?” Jack asks suddenly, clinging weakly to Ianto's upper arms while the pain starts to faid rapidly so that we are actually able to think a little more clearly again.

Ianto quirks a smile. “Since neither Gwen nor I are a doctor, I think it doesn't really matter who helps Tosh, don't you think? Unless you'd like me to call Gwen up here again so that she can be the one taking care of you.”

Sudden nausea spreads through both of us, and I really, really don't want to think about the amount of smoothering mothering Gwen would amount to for Jack's sake.

“No,” he manages uneasily to which Ianto, the little tosser, only smirks smugly, “it's alright.”

“Thought so,” Ianto counters drily while he allows us to sag against him in complete exhaustion.

None of us dare to say a word while we wait for news from the two women.

What if my body actually dies? It would probably hurt like fuck – just like the seizure just now did –, but apart from that, would it make any difference on my current situation? I fear that it wouldn't.

Merging with Jack isn't really an option though, for none of us.

We startle when Tosh and Gwen eventually come back up, looking tired and on edge.

“He went into cardiac arrest,” Tosh says before Jack or I can start asking questions.

“What?!” I exclaim through Jack, looking at her in shock.

Tiredly, she waves her hand. “Your body's fine, Owen, but what we did down there was more bumbling luck than actual knowledge about what to do.”

“I wouldn't have been able to come down and help,” I defend myself through gritted teeth. “I could hardly move.”

“Shit, this is so confusing and creepy,” Gwen growls while throwing us troubled looks.

“You don't say,” I snap at her before Jack can stop me. 

Jack shakes his head as if he could simply shake me off like that. “We're fine now,” he takes over, and suddenly sits up, though still leaning slightly against Ianto for support. He looks from one team member to the other. “But it's almost high noon, kids, so, any ideas what we can do?”

Gwen and Ianto keep quiet, and everyone's expectant gaze zooms in on Tosh. Bristling, the Asian woman seems to fold under the weight of our expectations, but she stubbornly presses her lips together. “We can't do anything, Jack,” she says, much to my shock. “The device is broken. And even if it wasn't, we don't have a user manual on how to operate it in the first place; we don't know what it's for in the first place. So, what if what happened to you was caused _because_ it was broken? I probably wouldn't be able to reverse the process then even if I managed to switch the thing it on.” Heavy silence falls over the team as the bitter thruth starts to sink in. is there really no way? We're Torchwood! Broken and dysfunctional as we may be, until now, we have solved almost anything!My gaze bores into Tosh who avoids everyone's gaze. Tough luck that she's the brightest person in the room so that everyone looks to her to seolve the crisis. But when even she is at her wits' end...

Uneasily, she suddenly starts nibbling on her lower lip.

“What?” Ianto asks suspiciously.

“There is one way I can think of, but there's no saying that it would even work,” Tosh eventually admits which raises my hopes again considerably.

“We have to try,” Gwen says, new determination shining in her eyes all of a sudden.

Tosh shakes her head. “You won't like it.”

“Out with it, Tosh, we haven't all day,” I snap shakily, and she nods jerkily.

Then, she looks up, directly into my and Jack's eyes.

“The only thing I can think of to maybe – just maybe! – reverse the process and cut the connection... is killing you, Jack.”

All hell breaks lose after the last damning word has left Tosh's lips. Gwen flares up with a shrill outcry of denial, and a string of profanities burst out of me that actually overpower whatever Jack had wanted to say (how unnerving that would have been; both of us trying to talk at the same time). Ianto contributes with a shocked “No”.

The silence that descends over the team after that is deafening, and the accusing gazes all of us throw at poor Tosh are almost palpable.

“Fact is, we don't have the means to save you, Owen,” she presses out, trying to remain calm. “And if your body dies, then the merge will be irreversible. But if Jack dies, that could maybe cut the connection, and puts Owen's consciousness back into his body.

On slightly shaky legs, Jack rises, and advances on her, firmly grasping her shoulders. “But what if through killing me, we lose Owen's mind for good? Maybe he doesn't come back when I revive. The Vortex energy keeping me alive could simply see him as unneccessary baggage that it has to get rid of before I revive.” He shakes his head, his lips pressed firmly together. “There has to be another way, Tosh.”

She shakes her head. “There isn't. And we're running out of time here.”

Suddenly, a spark of hope flares through Jack. “Let's call the Doctor then. I know som...”

“No!” Crying out in frustration, Tosh throws her hands into the air, and violently dislodges Jack's hold on her like that. “There's no time!” she shouts, and points at my body behind her down in the med bay that has reached a more than critical condition; the cardiac arrest only being the start of what will come very soon. “You should have made that decision sooner, then.” Determinedly and completely desperate, with her wide eyes darting over her shoulder frantically to my body, she balls her hands into fists. “It's the only way,” she argues.

“It's just a theory!”

“It's all just theory!” she screams, on the verge of a hysterical breakdown. I've never seen Tosh like this.

Her heavy breathing is the only sound for a moment as we all stare at each other.

“She's right, Jack,” Ianto's calm voice suddenly penetrates the aggitated mood. Wide-eyed, we swivel around to him. 

The Welshman takes in a shaky breath. “It  _ is _ just theory, yes, but it's also the only idea we have at the moment. The decision to contact the Doctor should have been made sooner, indeed.”

Jack bites his lower lip until I can taste blood. “And you approve of that?”

A dark, raw emotion flits over Ianto's face, but it's gone in an instant so that I'm not even sure it was there. “Don't think I'm happy with falling back on killing you as a solution, but what chance do we have?”

“Ehm...” Gwen swallows audibly, her throat probably bone-dry. “It's horrible, I know, but... what if Jack's death would really cut the connection.” She looks from one to the other with wide eyes. “Like it did with Suzie and me, remember?”

“And if we destroy the device?” Jack suggests, suddenly perking up with new excitement. “It was the glove that connected Suzie to Gwen, and when it was destroyed, the connection snapped.”

The rest look at each other. 

“Yes, maybe,” Tosh concedes, looking a little bit happier and relieved now as well.

“Okay, we can find out easily,” Jack smiles.

It doesn't work. 

The device lays in pieces in front of us, but I'm still stuck in Jack's mind, and my body is still on the verge of simply shutting down; even more so now than a couple of minutes ago.

“Right... well...” Jack swallows heavily while his gaze remains fixed on the remains of the device.

“What about Owen?” Gwen suddenly throws in.

Confused, we all look at her. She only shrugs.

“What's he say to the plan? I think, in the end, it should be his decision if we go through with Tosh's plan.”

She's right, I suddenly realise, as does Jack. But on the other hand, there isn't really a choice, isn't there? My body will die anyway if we don't do something, and being stuck in Jack's body for the rest of my life just to keep on living isn't really something to strive for.

“I'm sorry, Owen,” Jack's remorseful voice suddenly sounds in our head. “Gwen's right. It should be your decision.”

I nod metaphorically, and try for flippant when I give him my answer, “If I stay in your body, I'll probably have more sex than I would ever have on my own in my whole life – although, for the next couple of decades, it would only be with Tea Boy, so no, thanks –,” at that, Jack snorts out loud, and the others watch us with bated breaths as we talk it through in the privacy of our head, “but I can't do this, Jack. It wouldn't be fair on either of us. All three of us.”

Eventually, he nods, frowning with the seriousness of it. “So... we pull this through?” he asks for confirmation.

Sighing, I nod. “Yeah. Yes, we'll do this.” I scoff sarcastically. “Always wanted to know what dying felt like.”

Jack grimaces at that sympathetically. “It's completely overrated, believe me.”

Turning to the team, out loud he says, “Owen wants to go through with it.”

While Ianto simply nods with an impassive face, and Gwen frowns violently, opening and closing her mouth a few times to say something, Tosh simply looks relieved and as if a huge burden has suddenly lifted from her.

“Okay, but...” I cut in, “who'll do it?” 

In control for the moment, I draw Jack's Webley, and hold it out to the team. 

Gwen recoils from the offered weapon as if it had bitten her, and Tosh's eyes widen for a moment before she turns away, her arms crossed tightly in front of her chest. Ianto takes in a deep breath, and actually takes a step forward, but when I see his chalk-white face, I regret even having asked something like that from them.

Unable to bear the sight of Ianto almost breaking down in front of us at the prospect of having to kill his lover – images of Lisa probably flitting through his mind like they are doing through ours –, Jack takes control about his body again, and lowers his hand with the weapon. Instead, he steps up closer to Ianto.

“Don't listen to Owen,” he mumbles softly. “I won't allow you to do this.” In a very rare display of public affection, not caring about the others, Jack leans in to gently kiss Ianto's lips, and I promise later – if there is a later – to apologise to Ianto for even suggesting it. “Stop playing the strong one. You do so much for me already; I couldn't possibly ask you to suffer through that for me.”

Before Ianto can answer, protest even, Jack steps back, gripping the Webley tighter. “I'll do it,” he says firmly, adressing the whole team. “I want you to leave the Hub in the meantime.”

He meets Gwen, and Tosh, and Ianto's gaze, and for a few moments, silence descends over us, and I feel as if we're suspended in time. 

But then, Gwen steps forward, that damn determination shinging in her eyes for which I equally hate and admire her. 

“No,” she says. “We'll stay with you both.”

Tosh nods, raising her chin stubbornly, and Ianto steps close to us, not saying anything either, but the look on his face says it all as well. The Welshman only stops when he's within touching distance, and Jack and I know that he will catch us when we die. And that he will hold us the whole time until we both wake up – hopefully each of us in the right body again.

Sighing, Jack finally nods, and once more looks them all in the eye. Then, without any further preamble, raises the Webley to his temple. He smiles a typical Harkness-smile although it lacks its charm this time. “See you in a few minutes.”

“And Owen, too,” Tosh nods, convinced.

Then, Jack pulls the trigger.

A sharp, burning pain, then, everything goes black.

I blink my eyes open.

The first thing I feel is coldness.

Because I lie on the fucking autopsy table...

But... that means.

“Hey there, doctor Harper.” Jack's smirking face comes into my line of vision. “Welcome back.”

I grunt at him, and try to sit up. He steadies me since my body – _my own body! Yes!_ – is a little uncooperative for a few moments, and surprisingly, his relieved laugh at my grumpy reaction warms me to the core.

“Jack...”

He loo ks seriously at me, a trace of mirth still glittering in his eyes. “It's all right. We're all glad to have you back.”

My gaze roams through the med bay, meeting Tosh's relieved gaze who sits at my workplace down here, then, I sceptically tilt my head in the direction where I somehow know Ianto hovers, and cock my eyebrow pointedly.

“Yes,” Jack insists without looking himself at Ianto. “All of us.”

Snorting, I shrug off his gentle hand still on my shoulder, and glare at him as he leaves the autopsy bay, Ianto hot on his heels, and I just know he's grinning smugly. 

Scowling, I swing my slightly wobbly legs over the edge of t he autopsy table, the blanket they'd covered me with slipping down to pool into my lap.

Wait a minute.

“Jack! Why am I naked?!”

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to change the rating from Mature to Explicit. It's not always easy to draw a line, but a reader kindly gave me some examples that helped me with the decision. And in the future, I think, when in doubt, it will be Explicit just to be on the safe side.


End file.
